Requiem for Mina
by DuchessRaven
Summary: Mina Harker had not died, but instead had lived a quiet, secluded life for the past century as a vampire. When she reveals herself, Alucard finds himself torn between his old love and new master. AxI, AxM
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a teaser. I think. I have had this idea for a long time and never had a chance to write it down. Now, even though I am technically on a break, I find myself writing again because, well, if I don't write I go a little insane and that's not good for my mental health. I don't know how long this story will take to complete. I'll update as I write. Basically whenever I have time. Please enjoy the story and don't hound me about updating. Also, I couldn't think of a better title.

Other than that, leave your review please

REQUIEM FOR MINA

CHAPTER 1

The child was fussy, but that was nothing ordinary. Nurse Myra favored the boy with a smile as she prepared the blood lancet. Children got scared easy, more often than not because adults don't explain the world to them. Myra never had the privilege of having children, and most likely never will, but she always had a soft spot for them.

"Don't worry, love," she said gently. "It won't hurt much."

The boy sniffed. He was about seven, with a bushy head of black hair and a crooked smile that reminded her of a certain someone. That man… it was hard to imagine him as a child, but this must be what he looked like.

"Really?" the child asked in a small voice, eyeing the lancet's sharp tip anxiously.

"Well," she said, "maybe a little. But you're a big boy."

The boy shook his head stubbornly. "No, I'm not."

"You will be one day." She swabbed his arm with alcohol. "And then you'll be a man. And by then, little things like this won't hurt at all."

"So is it going to hurt now?"

"Do you want to grow up to be a big, strong man one day?"

Wiping his nose, the boy nodded. He was trying hard to put on a brave face, but his eyes betrayed his fear. She held his arm firmly and pushed the lancet under his skin as carefully as she could. He jerked slightly, then winced. She kept up her serene smile.

"What's your name?" she asked as his blood, red and thick, flowed into the small tube.

"Vicky," he answered.

"That's a nice name." The tube filled up. She disconnected it and put on another one. "Is it short for something?"

"Yea," the boy said. He was staring at the tube, slowly filling up with his blood, as if mesmerized. It really was an amazing sight, to watch a little of one's life leave their body. Blood was miraculous. "It's short of Victor. The same name as my grand-daddy."

"Do you see your grand-daddy often?"

"Uh-huh." He seemed much more relaxed now, as she connected the third tube. "He was at my last birthday party. He brought me a bicycle."

"How nice." The last tube filled. She pulled it out of the boy's arm and laid the lancet aside. "Now then, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Do you see your grand-daddy often?"

The question caught her by surprise. Myra quickly composed herself as she avoided the boy's gaze. It had been decades since she last thought of any member of her family, blood-related or otherwise. To forget was easier on her heart. "No," she said after a moment of silence. Her smile suddenly felt strained. "My grand-daddy died a long time ago."

"Oh," the boy said. His expression was that of one who had yet to learn to fully comprehend death.

"Let me give you a band-aid." Fishing in the drawers on her desk, she pulled out two boxes. "Do you want Snoopy or Sponge Bob?"

"Sponge Bob!"

After she sent the boy on his way with his mother, happily showing everyone his Sponge Bob band-aid, Myra cleaned up her station. The boy was the last patient in her shift. It was almost 11 o'clock. Time to head home.

The last thing she did was handle the three blood samples. Two of them she labeled and set aside. The next nurse on shift will send them down to the lab. But she already knew the boy wouldn't live long. There was illness in him. She could smell it. With modern technology he may survive for a while, but the life before him was a long and arduous one. Still, it was not her place to worry about such things. She couldn't afford to worry about every fading life in the world.

Taking a last glance around, she picked up the third tube. The nurses on graveyard shift were drifting in, bringing with them an air of sleep and general apathy toward the long night ahead of them. No one paid her any attention.

Carefully, she slipped the tube into the outside pocket of her purse, where it joined five or six others.

oOo

Walter waited until things have quieted down, then stood outside Integra's office another moment before going inside.

A strange heaviness hung in the air. It may be mildew, or perhaps smog from the lady's cigars. But the old butler knew it was more than that. The room was eerily quiet. The only source of light in the spacious office was a lamp on the desk. Its soft yellow light washed over the pale face of the woman behind the desk. She was smoking. He wished she wasn't, but she was. It was never a good sign when she smoked.

A few steps shy of her desk, the toe of his shoe came in contact with a small object. Looking down, he saw the glass paperweight that usually sat on her desk, shattered into three large pieces and a million small ones. Stopping, he bowed. She adjusted her glasses and looked up at him. She looked tired.

"Evening, Walter," she said, taking the cigar out of her mouth. There were visible bite marks on its tip. She had being biting it harder than she should.

"Evening, m'lady," he replied, scanning the room apprehensively. "Might I inquire whether Lord Alucard is still around?"

Integra shook her head and put out her cigar absently, putting it down into the ashtray with a force that indicated frustration and anger. "No. He left. I thought you'd be able to tell."

"You speak as if I was listening at the door."

"Weren't you?"

A thin smile spread across the butler's face. "The lady knows me too well," he said, taking a tentative step closer and nudging the shards of glass aside. "Was he angry?"

Integra sighed. "He has no right to be angry."

"That's not what I asked."

There was a pause. "Yes," she said after a moment. "He was angry. And I suppose I was angry at him for being angry." Suddenly, she gave an awkward chuckle. "Tell me, could the whole household hear us?"

"Just this floor and the ones immediately above and beneath it."

"Wonderful." Leaning over, she fumbled in the nearest drawer, indicating that she was searching for another cigar.

"If I may, m'lady," said Walter. "It is getting rather late. You ought to retire and get some rest, especially after this ordeal." He eyed the broken paperweight. "I will clean this up and inform Lord Alucard to refrain from destroying things in your office in the future."

"Thank you, Walter." She was still searching for the cigar, but seems to be doing so half-heartedly. Her voice was dejected. "But I broke that."

The butler arced a brow. "Was it well-deserved?"

"I wanted to hit him with something harder than his head."

"Looks like his head won."

She chuckled again. They were looking for humor in the situation though there was next to none. The lingering heaviness did not dissipate.

"Please go to bed, Miss Integra."

"It's not even midnight." Turning her chair around slowly, Integra lifted the curtains behind her. Below, the troops were moving out. She could see Seras Victoria running alongside them. The French captain was following her, probably making some sort of lewd comment as they went about their work.

"This is not the night to worry about your work."

For a moment he expected her to argue, but to his surprise, she sat back in her chair. "I suppose you're right," she said in a tone unusually soft. Then her eyes met his. "Do you think I made the right decision, Walter?"

He bowed. "I am but the butler, ma'am. It is not my place to question your decisions."

"Yes," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "Yes, that's right, isn't it? I wish he shared your thought."

oOo

The streets of London was not a safe place for a single woman to walk alone in the dead of night. Shadows lurked in every corner, behind every alleyway, inside every window. It was at night that thugs, thieves, and rapists made their appearance. But for those who are more knowledgeable, they know that there are far more dangerous things than that. They were the things that went bump in the night, and preyed on anything that walked.

But for Myra these things were no big deal. In fact, she more than enjoyed the night. Sunlight irritated her delicate white skin and the day was usually too noisy, filling her sharp senses with useless noise. The night was mysterious and comforting, like an old friend wrapped around her slender body.

Besides, there weren't many things haunting these streets that she couldn't take care of, human or otherwise. She didn't like to do things the hard way unless the circumstances warranted it.

Strolled down the empty streets toward her flat, she reached into her purse and removed one of several tubes. Opening the top, she tipped it toward her lips. The fresh blood, cooled by the night air, was like angel's nectar sliding down her throat. It had being a good day. Eight people came to give blood samples and she had being able to take extra samples from six of them. It wasn't as good a take as when she had the privilege of volunteering at the hospital's blood drives, but it was definitely better than most days.

Draining the tube, she closed it and put it back into her purse. Most of London was asleep. The streets were damp from rain. Her shoes clicked against the sidewalk, the only sound in the night.

She considered taking her contacts out. After all, she was almost home and no one was around. If anyone happened to be wondering around at this time of night, they were probably too drunk to question the color of her eyes anyway.

And that was precisely what she began to do when fate threw her a curveball.

Then again, it's not the first one.

She stopped in front of a corner shop. The "closed" sign hung in its glass door, looking rather lonely and abandoned. Laying her purse on its step, she reached up to her right eye with a careful finger.

A flash of movement to her left. She paused. The contacts would have to wait.

Another on her right. They were surrounding her. She sighed. This really wasn't a good night for this. The scent of blood and rot filled her nostrils. Honestly, these younglings don't understand good oral hygiene at all.

It was useless to run. Running would only excite them. It was also no use to call for help, even if she needed any. The local police was never good at dealing with this sort of thing. This was most unfortunate – she just had her uniform dry cleaned two days ago. The least she could do, she figured, was to make sure her meal for the next two days didn't shatter and ruin her purse. With one foot, she nudged her purse into a corner against the shop's wall.

There was movement above. She didn't need to look up to know there were two more, watching her. From her pocket she pulled out a rubber band and bound her hair up. It was bad enough that her clothes was about to be stained. She didn't want to have to spend her night off washing her hair, too.

They were drawing closer, but somewhat hesitant, perhaps because they could smell no fear from her. They were mongrels, young and inexperienced. After all, only low-levels hunted in packs, unsure of their abilities and hoping to gain advantage in numbers. She stood her ground, binding her hair unhurriedly.

They were confused. She wasn't running, or panicking, a woman alone in the night. But they were hungry, and she seemed the easier prey.

Myra finished binding her hair and let her hands fall to her sides.

"Well?" she said calmly. "Come on."

They were surprised. But hunger won in the end and they attacked. One from each side and two from above. She could feel their desperation, their desire, their wish to tear her apart from limb to limb.

She flexed her fingers and readied herself, hoping to do this as quickly and cleanly as possible.

A split second later she would have ripped their heads off and gone on her way, turning her coat inside out to hide the blood.

However, it was half a split second later that the nearest one let out a screech and crumbled into a pile of dust on the ground. Myra blinked. The other vampires surrounding her did the same.

Three successive shots, deafening to the ear. Bright lights and gunfire suddenly flooded the street. The three vampires fell, their bodies dissolving, falling like sand in an hour glass. Myra raised her arms to shield her sensitive eyes from the light.

Many voices suddenly rose from all around her. Shocked and confused, she stood her ground as the sound of heavy books and cocked guns surrounded her. The lights were almost too much.

A hand laid on her shoulder.

Lowering her arms, Myra found herself face-to-face with a young woman. She was wearing a military uniform.

"Are you alright?"

She squinted in the bright light as the woman's face came into focus. She was more of a girl, really, no more than twenty years old with a bob of blond hair and a figure that could've grace the cover of Playboy. From behind the girl, she saw a line of armored vehicles, their headlights blazing, and a group of soldiers, much more heavily armed than this girl, were searching the area and speaking into a variety of communicators.

"Miss?"

She turned back to the girl. She was smiling. Such a kind, innocent smile.

"Are you alright, Miss?" She looked Myra over quickly. "You seem fine, that's good. We got here just in time."

"Damn right she's fine."

A man stepped up behind the girl, resting his arm on her shoulder. She seemed annoyed, but didn't pull away. The man, who with his eye-patch and long red hair seemed like he just stepped out of an outdated action movie, looked Myra up and down appraisingly. "It's not safe for a pretty lady like you to wonder around like this," he said with a wide grin. "How about I escort you to wherever it is you're headed?"

The girl drove an elbow into his stomach. The man coughed and staggered backward comically. Turning around, the girl slapped him upside the head. "Don't hit on the victims!" she yelled.

The man groaned. "Aww, come on! You never let me have any fun."

"No!"

Half-limping, the man walked away, muttering something under his breath in French. The girl turned her attention back to Myra. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "Are you sure you're OK? Would you like us to escort you anywhere?"

At first it seemed absurd, that a girl so young would be part of the armed forces. She was so small, so pretty, and appeared to be unencumbered by the heavy armor of her comrades. On top of that, Myra noticed, she seemed to be carrying a gun twice her size. The thing was almost a cannon. She hadn't notice until now because the girl was holding it as if it was no heavier than a beachball.

But then she caught a whiff of the girl's scent. Something very familiar. And of course, there was her eyes.

A vampire.

Myra smiled. "I'll be alright," she said. "Thank you."

The girl didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure? This is a dangerous area," she said. "Although I have to say you seem pretty calm after all that."

"I'll be alright," she said again. When the girl turned to leave, she saw clearly, only the light of the moon and the cars, the symbol on her arm. The black and red shield. And that name she hasn't seen in many decades.

_Hellsing_.

A thought occurred to her. Quickly, she stepped into the streets and looked around, left, right, down every alley and nook. Finally, she looked up.

There, atop the roof of the nearest building, was the man she has not seen in over a hundred years. Human eyes could not spot him in the dark, but she saw him clear as day. Like herself, time had not touched him. His eyes were still dark and mysterious, his features sharp and hard. Did he still smile that way? That crooked sneer. Did he still sleep in that old coffin? Did he still speak such charming and amorous words about the night?

He hadn't noticed her, and she was a little disappointed. Still, she was sure he would remember her name, just as she had never forgotten his.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 

When they returned to the mansion that night, it was nearly two o'clock. The troops were tired, muttering to themselves and yawning as they put away the equipment and prepared to retire, hoping that the incident was the only one for the night. A few lingered, chatting up with Seras.

Alucard was in no mood to fraternize, even if he was the sociable type. An air of gloom hung over him as he skulked past the men toward the mansion. The annoying red-headed Frenchman had stopped him a few moments ago, draping his arm over the vampire's shoulders and asking if there was "trouble with the old lady". There was alcohol on his breath, though that was nothing out of the ordinary. After earning a cold glare from the elder vampire, the man trotted off to hang with his fledgling.

He could have headed to the dungeons and stayed there, or ventured to the roof and basked in the moonlight. Either option would put him well out of the way of Integra, who was probably still up, despite Walter's repeated pleas for her to go to bed.

He chose neither. Instead, allowing his body to meld with the mansion walls, Alucard headed upstairs, toward his master's office. It wasn't the smartest thing to do. She may through something at his head again. But it didn't matter what she did. Not anymore.

The door to her office was closed. He emerged in the hall outside, landing gracefully on his feet from the ceiling. He started to go through the door, then hesitated, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say, or why he was even here. Honestly, there was no good reason. Perhaps he subconsciously wanted to pick another fight, just to let out his frustration.

For several minutes there was no sound. She may have gone to bed after all. He began to turn, just as the door opened.

"Oh," she said in an even tone. "It's you."

There were a million things he could say, wanted to say, that would have sent the pair of them into another screaming match. But he wasn't in the mood to wake the entire house. Besides, Integra looked so tired. There were bags under her eyes, her hair was a mess, and judging by the wrinkles in her clothes, she had nodded off at her desk.

And so he bowed. " Mission accomplished," he said, "master."

She nodded. "Very well." Silence. They avoided each other's eyes. "Do you have anything else to say?"

"No." He started to turn, then stopped. "Except that I stand by what I said before."

She was grinding her teeth. He could hear it. "Then I shall restate what _I_ said before," she said darkly. "That this is no business of yours. You don't make the decisions around here."

"And you are correct," he answered with a sneer. "I merely sit back and watch as you make poor ones." He tilted his hat at her. "Good evening to you, Miss Hellsing."

She was angry. He could sense the heat of her rage, aimed at his back. He hated being the one who made her angry, made her frustrated, made her give him that look. But again, it didn't matter anymore.

For the first time since facing Abraham Van Helsing, he felt like he had lost a battle.

oOo

The first thing Myra did upon returning home was to turn on her computer.

No, her name was Mina, she reminded herself. Seeing him tonight, after so long, reminded her of her of many things she had begun to forget. Her name was Mina Harker, maiden name Murray. Her late husband was Jonathan Harker. There were a few other names, too, broken fragments of her past. Jack Seward, Quincey Morris, and dear, sweet, Lucy.

And of course, Abraham.

She drank another tube of blood to calm herself. The sight of him had set her heart pounding, despite the fact that it was long dead. The rest of the blood went into the fridge. They ought to keep for a day or so, until she could get a fresh supply.

Mina settled down in front of her computer and checked her messages. She belonged to roughly two dozen news networks that specialized in oddball news and urban legends. Some of these were secretive, some completely bogus. A few were run by vampires like herself, most by humans. Several reported things that were never made public. After all, all that is reported is not news, and all that is new is not reported.

Many things that made their way onto these networks were just plain silly, some were half truths, and a select few items were pure gold. There are things in this world that most believe are not true, or even nonexistent, but those who know the truth hang on to these tidbits. The Hellsing agency was one such thing.

News of the Hellsing agency had started flowing around the 1940s, during World War II, but back then it was much harder to keep track of such things. Deep down, Mina truly believed that the internet was the best invention she had seen in her long life. Though it was mostly dominated by self-righteous idiots, there was no better place to seek out the strange and peculiar than on the internet.

Over the past few decades, she had kept a loose tab on Hellsing. After her husband passed away, she spent much of her time traveling, learning, studying the world. Eventually she made her way back to England, just a few years after the rumors of Hellsing began to surface. A mysterious agency, hunting vampires, protecting England in secrecy. Half the stories were ridiculous, the other half contained some truths.

It was when she heard that the agency was using vampires against vampires that she began to pay more attention. It was hard to fathom that the man who had forced eternal life on her had being turned into a tool against his own kind, but wasn't that Abraham's ultimate goal?

And so she had kept track. Abraham's descendents had changed the spelling of the family name, perhaps to keep the public from making direct connections. She searched for news of Arthur Hellsing, the agency's leader during WWII. Then the birth of the man's daughter, his death, the girl's succession as director, at age thirteen. Some of this information came of illegal means, but most didn't believe it to be true, so that was of little importance.

Tonight, she had seen the Hellsing agency at work with her own eyes. And more than that, she had seen him again. The master vampire, the dark prince of the night.

Count Dracula.

She browsed the news messages. There was nothing of interest except for one small thread posted in the secluded corner of a vampire-related forum.

It read "Hellsing Director to Marry".

oOo

Integra glared at the man cross from her front behind her teacup. It wasn't that she was angry at him, or disliked him. She was merely used to glaring at any man who smiled at her besides Walter and Alucard.

Well, recently it's only Walter. Alucard hasn't being smiling much. Even his cynical smirk was rare. The thought made her sigh.

Ever since she took over Hellsing as a child, Alucard had never left her side, even when she desperately wanted some privacy. Sometimes she suspected that he hovered about her for sheer amusement, and other times it felt as if he was being protective. Either way, he never left, was never more than a call away, and never stopped his toothy grin. In a way, that was what gave her comfort, courage during hard times.

There were occasions, of course, when they argued. She was a tenacious child and he was a stubborn vampire. Too often did they cross words in the first few years of her directorship. She had yelled at him back then, ordered him out of her sight, and he had taunted her, goaded her on, until she eventually wore herself out. But as time went on, and she grew older, these arguments happened less and less often. Around the time she turned seventeen, they stopped altogether. It was then that she realized the truth, that all his actions, all his words and jeers, were made for her, to make her stronger, smarter, a better leader. A master worthy of him.

She set the teacup down and sighed inwardly. The man in her company leaned forward and met her eyes with concern.

"Are you alright, Miss Integra?"

She looked at him, and felt somewhat disgusted with herself. He was, in technical terms, her fiancé. An arranged marriage. This was what she had fallen to. An arranged marriage by decree of the Queen. And she had agreed to it. She could have refused, stated that she was in no way going to be pushed into such an arrangement, but she had agreed to it.

But that was not what disgusted her. What disgusted her was that she actually found the man tolerable.

"Yes," she said stiffly. "I'm fine."

He smiled at her again. His smile was kind, as was he. He was a intelligent, sensible, good-natured young man. Two years her senior, he had graduated from a prestigious school and had studied law and some basic military strategy on the side. He had a sharp wit and could hold an intelligent conversation for hours. It also didn't hurt that he was tall, with a head of thick brown locks and the body of a world-class athlete.

When she had first prepared to meet him, she had fully anticipated Benjamin Denmark to be yet another one of England's empty-headed playboys, with pockets full of daddy's money and an empty space between his ears. If that had being the case, she would have cut him down with a few sharp twists of her tongue and left him simpering where he stood. But instead, he rebutted her words, parried her jeers, and more than held his own. He did not speak down to her because she was a woman, nor question her ability as director. Instead, Integra found herself holding a lengthy discussion with him, talking about the world in all its glory and ugliness.

In between those discussions, he let slip that he found her very attractive.

"As I was saying," Ben went on as Walter refilled their tea. "I have no intention of taking over Hellsing. I am a scholar, not a fighter, and I fully understand that no one does this job better than you. But I do think that there are ways of improving the operation, if I may make such suggestions."

She nodded absently. "Sure."

He was a good man. That was what was on her mind when she informed the Queen's agents that she would accept the arrangement. He was a rare gem among an entire social class full of spoiled aristocrats.

Chances are, with her underdeveloped social skills and admittedly thorny personality, she would never again find another man like him. It wasn't about love, or romance, for she cared about neither, but the future of the organization. A different man may be a hedonistic idiot who wastes her money on worldly pleasures, or a dominating chauvinistic pig who attempts to undermine her authority in the organization. Ben, however, had potential as a worthy partner, one who could aid her in both keeping Hellsing afloat and siring a suitable heir.

And thus, after much consideration, she decided to do what's best for Hellsing. It did not matter that she had no romantic feelings for him or otherwise. This, as the rest of her life, was part of duty. He was tolerable, that was enough.

They were set to marry in three months.

Ben had stood. She scarcely noticed. "I should take my leave," he said. "It's getting late."

She nodded and stood. "Very well."

"Perhaps I could drop my tomorrow or the day after?" he asked with an awkward smile. "After all, it is customary for two people to get to know each other before marriage."

She nodded again. "Alright."

"Sir Hellsing?"

"Yes?"

He took her left hand, removed her glove carefully, with the touch of a gentleman, and kissed the tip of her fingers respectfully. "If I may," he said sincerely, "I'll like to suggest that you give yourself a break. It's OK to enjoy someone's company. You don't have to feel guilty."

His words took her by surprise. She eyed him with a hint of suspicion. Few people could read her so clearly. "Let me ask you a question," she said. "What are you getting out of this?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Why did you agree to marry me? There are plenty who have offered with intentions of usurping my position. You don't seem interested in that prospect, so why?"

He released her hand. It felt to her side and felt particularly heavy. "Are you really so distrusting of people, Integra?"

"I have my reasons. Please answer the question."

"It's very simple," he answered as Walter brought him his coat. "Originally I hadn't planned to accept this arrangement. It seemed perfectly ridiculous. And honestly, the stories I heard about you haven't exactly being enticing. Still, I was curious."

"How flattering."

"Let me finish." He shrugged into his coat. "After meeting you, I have to say my opinion of you is largely unchanged from the stories. You are every bit as stubborn, bull-headed, sharp-tongued, and cold as they say."

She chuckled. She hadn't intended to but it slipped out. Quickly, she tried to disguise it as a cough and failed.

"But you're also very intelligent," Ben went on. "You've seen a lot of the world for someone your age, and you're not painted and ignorant like most other women of your stature. And," he favored her with a warm glance, "you're very beautiful, even though you seem to do everything at your disposal to hide that fact."

She tried to say something witty, to brush aside that embarrassing remark, but once again it proved difficult. Among all her experience and skills, flirtatious banter wasn't one of them.

A chilling presence made its way from the wall behind her as Ben retreated out of the room. Integra didn't turn around.

"Do you have something to say?"

The vampire said nothing. When she finally turned to face him he was already gone. It was getting old, this little silent game of theirs. She wished he would speak up, say what was on his mind, yell and shout so that she may do the same. The silence was wearing on her already thinning nerves.

_What do you want?_ She wanted to ask him. _What are you not saying?_

"M'lady?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Walter had returned from seeing Ben out.

"What is it, Walter?"

"You have a visitor." There was an incredulous look on the butler's lined face. "It's a young lady."


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: need to address one insanely long review...

kerricarri: honestly, I really do appreciate readers like you -- the ones that leave me crazy long, analytical, detailed reviews. It means you really put a lot of thought into the story, and I am very flattered. However, I am also now quite fearful that I would disappoint you with Mina's development. It has being a long time since I read Dracula, and really, it wasn't a very easy book, especially with English not being my first language and me generally being unfamiliar with European history. I took a lot of libery in developing Mina for this story. I just hope it doesn't fall beneath your expectations.

As a general warning for all readers, the things Mina says in this chapter have no scientific/mythological basis. I had to make up quite a bit of stuff in this chapter and the next one to make it plausible that she had arrived at the state she did. Also, if you find the meeting between Integra and Mina a little awkwardly written, I'm sorry. It was the best I could do.

Any thoughts, leave them in a review!

P.S. has the thought occured to anyone else that, since Dracula technically took Mina as his bride, she is more the "ex-wife" than "ex-girlfriend"?

CHAPTER 3

Getting past the guards had being easy enough. Their minds weren't very difficult to cloud. At first she had considered simply speaking to the soldiers and convincing them to let her inside, but something about their demeanor told her that they wouldn't trust strangers, nor would they hesitate to pull guns on a woman if they deemed her to be dangerous. So she took the sneaky path instead.

It wasn't the first time she'd seen the Hellsing compound. Ever since returning to England, she had wandered past its vicinities once every few years or so. It was the legacy of her dear friend after all, and she almost felt that it was her duty to make sure it stood as time went on.

And stand it did, and the structure had even expanded over the last few decades. She took this as a good sign. England needed Hellsing more than it was willing to admit.

Once inside, however, Mina found herself unsure of what to do next.

She was, after all, an intruder, and a vampire at that. For all she knew, the soldiers within the compound would shoot her on sight. She was very thankful she remembered to wear contacts.

The face of the pretty girl with the large weapon entered her mind. She was also a vampire. Perhaps Hellsing had recruited other vampires since the Count? It's not a surprising notion. The girl certainly looked to be of better company than the gloomy Count. In fact, she fit right in with the human soldiers.

Speaking of which, an armed group was running an evening drill not far off. Mina stayed out of sight.

Once inside the mansion, she paused. There were a great many hallways, and several floors. Many options presented themselves. She could search the building, attempt to find the director's office, or lure one of the maids into leading her. All of the options seems to pin suspicion onto herself.

"Miss?"

She started. Someone had snuck up on her. So much for stealth. Spinning around, she expected to face the muzzle of a gun, but instead an elderly gentleman stood there, smiling warmly.

"Did you need any assistance, Miss?" he asked kindly. But there was an edge to him. Mina could sense it clear as day. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. This is a restricted area."

He was in his sixties, tall and slim, with refined mannerism and a soldier's posture. His hair, tied back in a ponytail, was streaked with gray and white. He was the butler, Mina guessed, but not an ordinary one. There was a undertone to his words.

_Please leave. I don't want to remove you by force_.

Instinct told her that he could remove her by force, even if she was to resist with her true power. There was no point in hiding anything now.

She cleared her throat. "I'm here to see the director."

The man looked surprised, but only for a brief moment. His eyes flickered, and Mina knew that in a split second he had scanned her entire body, made note of her clothing, size, and anything potentially dangerous, then deemed her harmless, at least for the moment. It was a skill commonly possessed by seasoned soldiers. "Is that so?" he asked. "The director is not expecting company presently. May I ask what this is about?"

She smiled. It was really rather ridiculous, because she had no idea what this is about either. Forces of fate? Closure of some sort? It was too complicated. "I'm a family friend," she said at last.

He ran her words through his mind. Suspicion was written all over his face, though he was doing a good job of hiding it. "It's not that I doubt you," he said slowly. "But the director has not had known living family members in over ten years."

"I was acquainted with someone in her lineage." She paused, then added, "and someone who currently serves under her."

"And who might that be?"

"Last I knew him, his name was Dracula."

This time the butler made no attempt to hide his surprise. For a moment his expression was blank, but he quickly composed himself and cleared his throat. "Oh, my," he muttered.

"Will you take me to see the director?"

He motioned for her to follow him. They ascended several flights of stairs, during which the butler said nothing, but kept sneaking glances at her over his shoulder. He was sizing her up, trying to see if she was lying. Mina kept her expression blank, betraying nothing.

Finally, he entered a side room. She heard him speak to someone inside, then gestured for her to enter.

She had never seen Integra Hellsing before save for blurry photos on the internet and the occasional gossip piece posted in internet chat rooms. When she stepped into the room, Mina found her chest growing tight with anxiety.

There, standing before her, was the heir in whose veins flowed the blood of her dear friend Abraham.

"My goodness," she gasped. "You have his eyes."

oOo

The two women faced each other. Integra, who had too much on her mind to comprehend the situation properly, looked at Walter, who shrugged. She turned back to the visitor.

"Excuse me?"

The woman smiled. She was young, perhaps Integra's age or no more than a few years older. Her features were delicate and defined, with fine lines and smooth textures. Her hair was a chocolate hue, lightly streaked with honey brown. She wore a white dress with matching heeled sandals, and very light makeup, the very image of a modern British lady. The dress hugged her gentle curves like spilt milk. Despite herself, Integra felt a bit plain in front of this beautiful woman.

"I'm sorry," the woman said. "Let me start over. You may have heard of me, Integra. My current name is Myra Hammond. But your great-grandfather knew me as Mina Harker."

Integra was a woman used to surprises in her life, both pleasant and unpleasant, but the words she just heard hit a brick wall in her head. She looked at Walter again, then back at the woman.

"Mina Harker?" she stammered. "I…"

"It's alright," said the woman. "I don't expect you to believe me right away. I wouldn't have believed me. Could we sit? I've wanted to meet you for a very long time."

After a few rounds of conversation, Integra found herself slowly coming to terms with the situation. As the woman sat next to her and spoke with patience and grace, explaining her life and travels, she was in awe.

It was hard to believe. The woman who had helped her great-grandfather track down Alucard and bring him to his current servitude, the woman who was a symbol of strength and courage for her family for generations to come, the woman who started it all, was right here in front of her. An entire century later.

If she was an imposter, she was doing a damn good job of it. But instinct said she was genuine.

Walter seemed to be in just as much shock as she was, but he said nothing.

"I take it you are no longer human," she said to Mina. "I had thought the curse was lifted from you."

A sad smile spread across Mina's face. "It would have being," she said, "had the Count truly died. Even though his mark was gone, it appeared that the curse remained. We never suspected it, but eventually it became obvious that my time… simply didn't come."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Mina said quickly. "After all, what has happened cannot be changed. I am somewhat thankful that my husband passed on before this fact was discovered. I did not want him to know of it."

"When did he pass on?"

"1923. We were abroad and he had contracted a local disease in a seaside town. On his deathbed he spoke of how lucky it was that I did not contract it, too. Come to think of it, it may be that I did. It simply did not take effect because my body had already begun to change. The vampirism took more than thirty years to fully take hold. By then I had made peace with it."

Integra smiled. It was a privilege indeed, to meet this strong woman. "Why have you not come forward before?" she asked. "My family would have offered you any service we are able to provide."

Mina shook her head. "I didn't need it. I did not want to be a burden." There seemed to be something she wasn't saying, but her face lit up suddenly. "But that's old news. This is a joyous occasion. I hear you are to marry soon."

A cloud hovered over Integra's mindscape. She averted the woman's eyes. "I rather not talk about that."

Mina gave her a look of concern. "I take it it's not a marriage by choice?"

"Not entirely." Sighing, Integra mentally went over all the reasoning she had given herself for accepting this arrangement. "It's rather complicated." She searched her mind for a change of subject. "Would you like to speak with Alucard?"

Mina seemed confused. "Who is Alucard?"

"You once knew him as Count Dracula."

Mina chuckled. "Interesting. Though not exactly subtle."

"You'd be surprised at the number of people who do not see the connection. Would you like to see him?"

Mina hesitated. For a moment Integra regretted bring up her servant's name. According to Bram Stoker, they had not ended things on good terms. But then Mina nodded. "Alright," she said. "I would like to see him. It has being over a hundred years."

oOo

When Walter came to fetch him, Alucard was alone in the basement. He was reading. It was a tragedy written in its original Greek. It has been a while since he read Greek, and he was admittedly rusty. But to fill his mind with the difficulty of the language was easier than letting it wander.

He didn't want to think about his argument with Integra, nor about her impending marriage to Denmark. The whole thing wore on his nerves like red ants crawling over one's eyeball. He couldn't stand it, and couldn't do a thing about it.

He hated that the man was not an insufferable twit.

He hated that she had agreed to let him inside her house.

_Their_ house.

He hadn't intended to argue with her about this. He, after all, had no right to influence her decisions. But when she started to speak of how the man was what the organization needed, what she needed, he couldn't help himself. One thing led to another, and ended with her chucking her paperweight at his head.

_Stubborn woman,_ he thought to himself, though he supposed he wasn't much better himself.

"Alucard?"

He looked up. "What is it, Walter?"

"Miss Integra requests your presence upstairs." There was something in the old butler's voice. A hint of amusement, perhaps? "I suggest you hurry."

Integra wanted to see him. He couldn't fathom what she wanted. It has been a few days since they spoke more than two sentences to each other. They walked on eggshells. Heat was between then, and any spark could cause a fire hard to put out.

But he didn't want that. And he knew that she didn't either.

Walter was watching him. "Well?"

Setting his book aside, he stood. Perhaps she shared his sentiments. This was a chance for them to speak. It won't be easy. He straightened his coat. "I'll be right there. Is her office locked?"

"She's in the drawing room."

That was a bit out of the ordinary, but Walter was gone before he could ask further questions. Phasing through the walls, he headed upward, and repeatedly reminded himself not to lose his temper again, no matter what.

He entered the drawing room, stepped out of the wall, and bowed.

"Evening, master," he said, "I…"

Words escaped him as his eyes landed on the woman sitting next to Integra. Her brown eyes fixated on him, but he knew they were contacts. Underneath, they were as red as his own. On her face she wore a serene smile, that face he had spent thousands of nights dreaming of, thousands of days thinking about, decades lamenting.

"Why so silent, Count?" she asked. "Do you not remember me?"

Of course he did.

There was no way he could forget.

A million thoughts should be flooding his mind, but he found himself drawing a blank. Nothing coherent came out of his mouth, and he couldn't form a single clear thought.

Except for noticing the fact that, after an entire century, she was still so very beautiful.


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm glad this story had being so well-received. When I first thought it up, I was surprised that no one else has had the same idea. After all, Mina was such a big part of the Dracula stories. Anyway... what I want to focus most in this story is the interaction between Integra, Alucard, and Mina. Dialog is very important to me.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 4

Mina stood, balancing on those delicate heels like Integra never could.

"Would you mind terribly, Integra, if I spoke to the Count alone for a moment?"

He expected her to say "no". Hell, he himself wanted to say "no". What could she possibly have to say to him? He couldn't take his eyes off Mina. Was it a joke? Surely it had to be a trick of the eyes. There was no way she still lived, and as a vampire no less.

But her voice… her face… her hair…

It was her.

Integra stood also. Her expression was unreadable, but Alucard wasn't trying very hard. For the first time in over a decade, his master was not the focal point of his attention in a room. "All right," he heard her say. "Come along, Walter."

And then they were alone. Mina stepped closer to him, but still at a comfortable distance. It was as if she could read his mind.

"How are the times treating you, Count?"

There were many things he wanted to ask her, but Alucard decided on the one that he deemed important. "Why are you here?"

She chuckled. "I think you mean why am I alive."

"That, too."

"You ought to brush up on your vampire lore. I drank your blood, Count. Or do you not remember? It never left me. " Rounding the couch, she drew near him and leaned against its back, her smooth, flawless legs crossed. "If the head vampire does not die, his curse is not broken. Isn't that the truth?"

"Did the rest of them know?"

"You mean my dear friends." She played with her hair. "No, they do not know. Not even Abraham. When I began to sense the change, I distanced myself from them. I suppose I felt somewhat embarrassed by it. Even my beloved late husband did not know."

"Why are you here?"

He was uncomfortable around her and he knew she could tell. Having her so close, after all this time, screwed with his mind and body in the worst way.

"I came to congratulate Integra on her engagement."

He gritted his fangs. "Oh."

"And I came to see you." He wanted to look away, but her eyes were locked on his. "I saw you that night, you know. In the streets, after I was nearly attacked. I saw the people you work with. They're good people. And your new bride."

That brought a snicker out of him. "My days of taking brides are behind me," he told her. "You of all people know that."

"Oh?" she tilted her head slightly, her brown locks fell over her shoulder. "Then that lovely girl I came across was not your handiwork?"

"She was," he said with a sigh. "She was. But she is not a bride. You were the last. She is, I suppose, an apprentice of a sort."

"What have you being doing with your time, Count?"

"Servitude, Miss Harker," he said coldly. "What about you?"

"Traveling. Learning. Right now I work as a nurse. It's not glamorous, but it keeps the blood coming."

Her words faded into the air. There was little else he could say to her after the initial shock of seeing her wore off. Mina straightened.

"I should go," she said. "It's getting late and I hate to impose on Integra like this. Good night, Count."

"It's Alucard now."

"Alucard, then." She turned to leave, but at the door she paused and glanced at him one last time. "Does it get lonely, Alucard?"

"What does?"

"Eternity." There was sadness in her eyes. "That is something I learned in the last few decades. Eternity is a lonely thing, watching everyone you love die, one after another, knowing that you will never join them."

Alucard chortled bitterly. "I have no need for human companionship," he said. "The last humans I acquainted with landed me in this position."

"Do you hate us for it?"

He thought for a moment. "No," he said. "I suppose there's no point in that."

Hearing his words, her eyes shined. It was a sight he had not seen in such a long, long time. "I have a flat at Primary and 14th," she told him, and before he could ask what he should do with that information, she was gone. He heard her speaking to Integra outside, wishing her well and offering to meet up again to talk about Abraham and the other brave men.

Primary and 14th.

oOo

It was an uneventful night.

For Hellsing, and uneventful night meant twelve ghouls instead of twenty-four. The attack took place on the outskirts of London, and was finished up quickly with no casualties and minimal injuries, all of which stemmed from ghoul attacks, with the exception on the bumps on Pip Bernadette's head, which Seras gave him after he pretended to stumble to look up her skirt.

Though he tagged along as was the usual way of operations, Alucard did not participate in the bloodshed. Instead, he stood to the side and watched his fledgling.

She was a lovely girl, both strong and beautiful. He had never before thought of taking her as his bride, even as his fangs sunk into her neck. She was not fit for that purpose, and he still thought the same way. The closest thing she could be to him was some manner of adopted daughter, never a bride.

Not the way Mina was. How silly, that she should think he would take such a child to be his bride.

He didn't like to wallow in memories. Most of them were painful and only served as a distraction. Over time he had even gotten quite skilled at ignoring his dreams. He refused to be haunted by the past. He was, after all, something of a ghost himself.

But with Mina appearing out of the blue like this, it was hard to ignore what had taken place before. It has been three days since she visited. He hasn't being sleeping very well, because the same dream kept repeating itself. A dark, relentless spiral that pulled him deeper and deeper down into the abyss.

He had being in his coffin. He had let his guard down because he had underestimated the humans. But they found him. Abraham Van Helsing found him, and the stake that went into his heart was pain he had never expected to bear.

"So I lost," he heard himself gasp. It was more a statement to himself than anything else. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't convince himself.

Then Van Helsing spoke. How he hated that man's voice. "That's right, Count," he had said. "You've lost. Your castle and territory are gone. Your servants have scattered. Your power is fading, too."

A strong hand seized his collar. The stake moved in his wound. He could barely make his way past the pain to hear Van Helsing's words.

"You've lost everything, Count!" The man was shaking him. He could only see red. "She will never be yours."

And those words, those last words, hurt the most.

"Master?" Alucard shook his head. The police girl was gazing up at him. The commotion had died down. "Are you alright, master?"

Quickly, he steeled himself. "Of course I am," he snapped. "Are you finished yet?"

She saluted. "Yes, sir. We're about to head back and let the clean-up crew takeover."

"Fine."

"Aw, no hurry."

The Frenchman again. Wonderful. While he had moderate respect for the man's fighting abilities, Alucard was growing increasingly annoyed at Bernadette's crude, backwater mannerisms. Young people nowadays had no sense of dignity and refinement. He frowned as the man threw an arm over Seras's shoulders.

"We should take our time," he said to her breasts. "The boss is back here entertaining that Denmark chap. We ought to give them some privacy, right?"

His words stuck Alucard like a ton of bricks. Seras seemed rather uncomfortable. "Come on," she said awkwardly. "I'm sure they're not doing anything…"

"The hell they aren't," Pip declared loudly. "Say what you would about Miss Integra, but I refuse to believe a dame that fine doesn't have a sex drive. And have you seen that fellow? Hell, if I was a bird or a fag…"

"That's enough!" Alucard snapped. He longed to wipe the grin off the man's face. Thankfully, his fledgling beat him to it. Pip let out a pained yowl and hobbled away on one foot. Seras sighed.

"He always runs his mouth," she said dejectedly. "Shall we head back, master?"

He gazed behind her at the troops. They were wrapping up. It was just past midnight. The annoying Frenchman was now off with his pals, venturing more extensive theories on Integra's hypothetical sex life.

"Go on ahead without me," he told Seras. "I'll find my own way back."

Her face said she was confused, but he had no desire to explain anything to her. "Are you going somewhere, master?"

He didn't answer.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: just a little background for those of u who haven't read Dracula. In the book, when testing her for vampirism, Abraham placed a eucharist wafer on Mina's forehead, which burned her skin and left a scar.

Also, I am now a college graduate! I have a masters degree in business. Yay!

I posted this in another story, but again here: if you're interested in updating dates and such, I started a livejournal to keep myself on track. It's at duchessrave dot livejournal dot com.

CHAPTER 5

Primary and 14th was a bit of a ways from their location, but he was a fast traveler. It wasn't hard to find her flat. Her presence was very strong. She was, after all, a nosferatu like himself. And it was only reasonable that she would sense his own presence.

When he arrived, she was waiting outside the door.

"I didn't think you'd ever come," she said when he appeared through the wall of the apartment building. Her voice was blank. He couldn't tell whether she was expecting him or not. It seemed that she had gotten off work not long ago. She was wearing a nurse's uniform, the kind that sent the mind of even the purest men reeling.

"I had no reason to," he said. There was nothing to do but be honest. After a hundred years, there wasn't really any reason to be otherwise. "And I still have no reason, I suppose."

"But you're here regardless." She opened the door behind her. "So you might as well come in."

Her flat was very small, and very neat. There was only one room, with an attached bathroom and a kitchen that was barely touched. The only furniture she possessed was a desk with her computer on top, a chair, a television sitting on a nightstand, and her bed.

"Have a seat," she said.

Her purse was resting on the only chair. After some hesitation, he sat down on her bed. As she walked into the kitchen to fetch two glasses, he admired her curves, though only half-heartedly. His mind was trying desperately to figure out what exactly it was he hoped to accomplish by being here.

"Drink?"

He nodded. "Sure."

She opened the refrigerator, and he saw over her shoulder that the only items inside were neatly arranged test tube racks, each holding several tubes of fresh blood. Mina removed a few and emptied them into two wine glasses. She handed one of them to him after coming out of the kitchen, and sat down on the chair.

"Cheers."

He gave a wane smile. "Cheers."

The blood was fresh indeed, a wonderful change from the medical blood packets usually issued at Hellsing. He hadn't intended to finish it so quickly, but the glass was empty before he knew it. Mina was watching him with a hint of amusement.

"Slow night?" she asked.

"You could say that." He looked around. "I think you ought to study up on vampire lore, too. Have you forgotten your coffin somewhere?"

She chuckled. "Who says I have?" She pointed at the bed under him. "Lift up the sheets."

Curious, he did. There, beneath the long sheets, sitting under the mattress, was a layer of wooden boards, nailed all around the bed. Beneath that still, he saw, was a mass of brown matter. Thick, brown dirt gave off an almost sweet aroma, tingling his sensitive nose. He was surprised he hadn't noticed before.

A makeshift coffin, disguised as a bed. He was impressed.

"Interesting idea."

"I like to think so."

Neither of them spoke as time slipped past them. The silence, unlike that at the mansion, was comfortable. "So," said Alucard at last, "what can you do?"

"You mean if I'm anything like you?" Mina set down her glass. "No, not entirely. You do have several centuries on me, after all. But I believe we share some similar abilities. Strength, speed, the ability to communicate with lower animals."

"Shape shifting?"

"Very little." She tossed her brown locks over her shoulder. "This was done without hair dye. I can change its color as I want within a certain range. I suppose that's a dream for many women, but for me it's merely a convenient disguise. I can mold my body and face slightly, but not enough to make a huge difference." She lifted up her long bangs. "I learned how to soften the scar from the wafer rather quickly. Can you see it?"

"No."

"Good."

"Do you hate me?"

She was unsurprised by the question, though Alucard was a bit shocked at himself for asking the question. It seemed something that was better left unspoken.

"No," she said without a moment's pause. "At first I thought I would. I thought I would forever loath the monster who put this curse upon me. But as time went on, I found that I never really resented you for it, even when I wanted to. I was sad for a while after Jonathan passed on, thinking that I would never be able to join him in heaven. But times changed, and now, in this day and age, that seems a rather ridiculous notion. No one even knows what heaven and hell is anymore. We make peace and we move on."

"You make it sound so simple."

"That's because it is. We're the ones who make such simple things complicated."

It was very strange, sitting there talking to her like this. He had never thought of what would happen should they meet again, but this was certainly not what he would have expected. She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her crossed legs.

"You're wondering why I came to see you after all this time."

"It would be a good thing to know, yes."

"I wanted to meet Integra, see the first female leader of Hellsing. I liked what I saw. She is very beautiful, with Abraham's strong spirit. A fine leader."

He tried his best to hide his discomfort at hearing Integra's name.

"But I also had a lot of time to think," she went on, "after I had buried my last loved one. I realized that the only person left from my life was you. I felt like I began to understand you. How lonely you life must have being. At times I craved companionship so badly I wanted to die. But of course I couldn't. And I knew that you must have felt the same."

"You came to search for companionship from me?"

She chuckled. "You and I are the only two of our kind. Who better?"

She was right. Alucard had to admit that to himself. It was a sad fact, how they had both fallen, angels with their wings clipped. She was absolutely right.

He stood. "I should go," he said. "I should report in."

She stood also, and walked him the short distance to the door. "Good night, Count."

This time he didn't correct her.

oOo

When he returned to the mansion, Integra was still up. He hadn't expected any less. Judging by the way she drummed her fingers on her desk when he entered, she had being waiting quite a while.

"Where have you being?" was the first thing out of her mouth.

He removed his hat and bowed. "Good evening, my master."

"I asked where you've being," she repeated. "The rest of the troops reported in over an hour ago. Do you have a good reason for wandering off alone?"

Her tone irritated him. He hated when she talked down to him. Also, because at the moment, he felt he did not owe her this explanation. Pip's words filled his head. While he was out, fighting for her, she had being here, entertaining that man who was not worthy to lick her shoes.

"I was visiting an old acquaintance," he said. "I was informed that you were entertaining and may enjoy some… _privacy_."

The corner of her lips twitched. He barely caught it, or perhaps he had imagined it. He didn't know for sure. Something he said hit home, and he was glad despite himself. Her fists clenched. He braced himself for another shouting match.

But to his surprise, she relaxed her hand, albeit with some effort, and sighed. "Look," she said, "There is nothing between he and I beyond duty. This is best for Hellsing. You know that."

She was justifying it again. It made his blood boil when she tried to justify the situation. She didn't even believe her own words, he was sure of it. And yet…

He put his hat back on his head. "Frankly, master," he said coldly, "I don't give a damn."

He phased away just in time to avoid the ashtray she threw. It passed through him and hit the bookshelf, then shattered onto the floor. The scattering pieces mirrored his feelings, both of theirs.

Broken.


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am tired and miserable and my studying's not going well. My next CPA exam is on Wensday and I'm not ready. No more updates on anything until end of next week. See livejournal for additional rants. Or not. They're not that interesting. I need luck. I'll trade stories and egg salad sanwiches for luck.

I know it's a short update, but I have no time. Plz enjoy it and review

Ch. 6

The next time Ben visited, it was a stormy evening. Integra had considered canceling, but part of the mansion lost power due to the rain and lightning, her office included. Cursing fate for not giving her a reason to break the date, she allowed him to come.

The first thing he did when he walked into room was to hand her a package. Chocolates, perhaps? She didn't care for sweets, but at least he didn't try to impress her with something less suiting of her, like flowers or jewelry. With candy, at least Walter could indulge the little sweet tooth he furiously denies having.

"What's this?" she asked as he hung up his coat.

"Book on African literature," he replied. "I thought you might enjoy it. Some of it even relates to vampires. I read it myself a few days ago. Quite interesting tidbits."

She didn't know what to say, but when he led her to the dining room where Walter had dinner ready, she favored him with a rare smile.

"Well now," he said, returning it, "it seems I did the right thing for once."

All in all, the evening was pleasant. Integra didn't want to admit it, but Ben was pretty good company, especially considering the conversation around here had being sub-par as of late. This fact, however, reminded her of certain things she didn't want to think about. Certain someone she wanted off her mind.

"Are you alright, Miss Integra?"

She looked up into Ben's concerned eyes. "I'm fine," she said unconvincingly. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that you finished that wine awfully quickly." He glanced at the empty glass by her hand. "And haven't touched your food."

That was true. She poured herself more wine. The alcohol was helping her relax, though not as much as she needed. Ben was looking increasingly edgy as she finished the second glass and moved on to a third. Her grilled chicken and rice remained untouched.

"Is this a good idea?" she suddenly said.

"All that wine? Probably not. Is something on your mind, Integra?"

"Don't worry about me," she said, more sharply than she had intended. The wine was going straight to her head. She felt a bit woozy. "I'm asking you, do _you_ think this whole arrangement is a good idea?"

Ben chuckled. "Are you talking about our upcoming nuptials?"

"Do you have doubts?" she was speaking in a manner that was really very unladylike. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Walter giving her a disapproving look as she filled her glass again. But she didn't care. Right now, at this moment, she simply didn't care.

_Damn you, Alucard._

Ben was nodding. She was surprised. "I have had some doubts," he said. "You seem to ask me that an awful lot, perhaps because your own doubt is much stronger than mine. But I have to tell you honestly, that after meeting you, those doubts have alleviated themselves."

She expected him to do something corny, maybe reach across the table and take her hand. But he didn't. Instead, he simply meet her eyes evenly and spoke.

"I never thought I would allow myself to fall into this kind of situation. I'm sure you thought the same. I had my own place in the world, my own plans. I didn't plan to take a wife any time soon, especially none of the pretentious women in the English aristocracy. But you're different. And this is a great opportunity for the both of us. I believe you and I can work well together. And, something I never expected to happen, but I feel I must admit."

His eyes fell a bit. "I think I've fallen in love with you, Integra. Take that however you wish to."

Whether it was the wine or her long-suppressed emotions, Integra felt heat raise to her cheeks. She reached for the wine again, but Ben placed a hand over her glass.

"Let's go easy on that," he said. "I know you are usually under a lot of stress, but you look like you might fall over."

In spite of herself, Integra laughed. It was an awkward, uncomfortable laugh at her pathetic state of mind. _And damn you, Ben, for making it so hard to hate you,_ she thought hazily. _Such a fool, falling in love with a wreck like me._

After dinner, seeing that she was in no condition or mood for anything else, Ben left. She saw him to the door, where they lingered for a moment. Rain poured from the dark heavens outside.

"You shouldn't love me," she told him. Her legs felt weak. She leaned against the doorframe with one hand.

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm not a good woman to love."

"You're intelligent, courageous, and beautiful."

"That does not make me a good woman. You don't want to get tangled up in a life like mine."

He touched her chin. Normally she would hurt a man for doing so, but as it was, she was barely holding her head up herself. "Why don't you let me make that decision for myself?" he asked her.

Then he leaned in a little. It wasn't hard to see what he wanted. At first she thought about pulling back, but then she felt them, a pair of cold eyes on her back, watching from the shadows.

_Are you watching?_ She thought bitterly. _Is this all a show to you?_

She let him kiss her. It was her first. No man had dared touch those coveted lips in her life. But it was alright. In the whirlpool of frustration, indecision, bitterness, and alcohol, it was alright.

When they parted, her inebriated mind laughed darkly as Ben's chauffer escorted him to his car.

_How about that? I don't give a damn either._

oOo

He shouldn't have gone out on his own.

Thunder was booming overhead. He was never fond of rain, but right now it felt like an old friend, a cover, a shield from his own thoughts. Rain pounded relentlessly on the London streets. Lightning split the sky and twos and threes.

Technically, he didn't have permission to leave the mansion grounds on his own like this. If discovered, Integra would throw a fit, though he doubted she had much attention to give to him nowadays.

He felt like a fool.

His coat had soaked through a long time ago, as did each layer of clothing under it. The fabric clung to him like an ill-fitted second skin. He was drenched, but it didn't really occur to him that he could easily avoid the rain by traveling in the shadows. It simply didn't matter.

She must have sensed him coming, because she was waiting at the door again. But she was still surprised at the state he was in. Nevertheless, she let him in, and closed the door tightly behind them.

He said nothing when she pulled aside his wet black locks to look at his face. He said nothing when she removed his wet coat and hung it on the back of the chair.

And nothing still when their cold lips met, after a century of twists and turns.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all very much for the well-wishes! I really do appreciate it. The good news is I found out I passed the section section that I took in April. The bad news is this story is slowly getting away from me and I'm having trouble keeping it the way I originally planned. Therefore, it will be shorter than I originally planned. I hope you will still enjoy it.

Leave you review!

CHAPTER 7

When he opened his eyes, it was nearly dusk. The shades were drawn, but judging by the silence, the rain had died down a long time ago. A whole day had passed.

Rubbing his temples in an attempt to clear his head, Alucard sat up. The thin sheet covering his torso fell away. He was nude.

Next to him, laying peacefully, was Mina.

A thought struck him and he felt a twinge of worry and regret. Did they…

No.

He began to remember. That wasn't how it happened.

_He was running his hands over her body, caressing her curves, every inch of her. She wasn't resisting. Her arms were around his neck. They kissed each other, leaving soft round marks on each other's necks and shoulders with their fangs. They undressed each other, skin against skin, and he was laying her on the bed… _

_But then, she laid a finger over his lips. _

_"No," she whispered. "Not like this."_

And so they had slept. He remembered now, and was somewhat relieved. If something had happened, he would have felt like he betrayed Integra.

The image of her kissing that insufferable man. He cringed. She had already betrayed him.

"Evening."

He turned to see Mina rising. She was also scantily clad. Drawing her knees up under the sheet, she rested her arms around her legs and looked at him, both sympathetic and amused.

"You're a mess," she teased.

It wasn't that funny, but he gave a soft chuckle anyway. "I feel like one."

Pulling the sheet aside, Mina got off the bed. Her curves were perfectly luscious in the evening light. "I don't want you to misunderstand about last night," she said, dress herself. "I would have being more than glad to lay with you. It took a lot of self-control on my part to stop it. It's being a while since I've being with a man, especially one like you."

Alucard shook his head. "Don't give me that kind of credit. I haven't exactly being practicing since Abraham put his shackles on me."

"It doesn't matter." She buttoned up her uniform. "But the truth was, I knew you had something on your mind last night, and if we had gone through with it, you would've regretted it. I could tell it was not what you really wanted."

"Perceptive of you."

"I need to get to work soon." She flashed him a grin. "I think you should go home – or stay here if you want – and clear your head. And if what you wanted last night is still what you want after you come to your senses, you're more than welcome back. But if that's the case, then when you're inside of me, I want to be the only thing on your mind."

oOo

The Convention members were talking, but Integra wasn't hearing any of it. Her eyes saw eleven pairs of lips moving, but her ears were not filled with the words coming from them. Instead, all she could hear was Alucard. And Ben. And herself.

How did it get to be such a mess?

She was embarrassed. It seemed unfathomable that she, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, the woman of steel, the leader of the most prestigious vampire-hunting organization in the world, would fall to such a state of juvenile drama. She felt tired, and weak, and above all utterly confused. She was so very disappointed at herself for letting the whole thing get to her like this.

Memories of Ben's lips on hers returned to her. Honestly, she barely even remembered what she felt like. He was probably a wonderful kisser, but it made no difference to her. None at all. It was a show. She couldn't believe herself for stooping to such a level. She had let her emotions and no small amount of alcohol override her common sense.

_I'm a fool_, she thought to herself bitterly.

Whatever she had intended to accomplish last night, which she wasn't sure what it was, it certainly had an effect. Alucard had disappeared in the middle of the night. Though she hadn't seen him leave, she could feel the empty space his usual imposing presence left. When she woke in the morning, he still hadn't returned.

She glanced at her watch as casually as possible. It was nearly six p.m.

"Is something the matter, Sir Hellsing?"

She looked up. The Convention members were looking at her with half concern and half annoyance that they had to stop long enough to inquire upon her well-being. Integra cleared her throat and straightened her glasses.

"No, Sir Pembrook," she said, using her best authoritative voice. "Please go on."

And they did, not missing a beat. Ever efficient was the Convention. Integra tried her best to concentrate on their words, until…

She stood suddenly. "Excuse me," she said. "I will be back shortly."

Most of the men glanced at her disapprovingly, but said nothing as she exited the meeting hall.

Outside the door, she paused. She had just walked out of a meeting of the Convention of Twelve. It was something she had never done, ever since she began to attend the meetings at fourteen.

_What am I doing?_

There was no denying it. She had left the meeting because she had felt a presence in the mansion.

But why? She didn't know if she had left the meeting so she could go meet him, find him and say… what? She didn't know that either. She didn't want to see him, and chances are he had nothing to say to her. Integra stood there in the hall, unable to decide what to do. The sensible thing was to turn right around and return to the meeting. But what was the insensible thing?

A figure clad in red descended soundlessly from the ceiling, saving her the trouble of making the decision. She faced him.

_Where have you being?_

"You're back," she heard herself say, much calmly than she felt.

"Yes, master," he replied, speaking as evenly as she did.

_Who were you with?_

"I hope you realize that you are not allowed to leave the estate without permission."

"Yes, master," he said again. "I do."

He didn't say it won't happen again. He didn't apologize. He didn't even attempt to make up an excuse. Instead, he stood there, his red eyes boring into hers. He was waiting to her to react, she realized, but she didn't know what sort of reaction he was expecting. Did he want her to get angry? Did he want her to be upset? Surprised? Confused?

_Jealous?_

"Alright," she said. "Dismissed."

He bowed. It was a shallow, half-hearted bow. Then he was gone, leaving her standing there alone. And for the first time since the death of her father, Integra Hellsing felt lonely.

oOo

"What's in a name?"

"Shakespeare's overrated."

An amused smile spread across Mina's face as she poured glasses of blood for both of them. It had being a good day. The hospital held another blood drive and she had worked a whole shift alone. "Maybe," she said, "but his words often make me think. I've being contemplating lately, about how I'd begun to forget certain things of the past until I saw you again."

Sitting on her bed with his back to the setting sun outside the window, Alucard said nothing. He wasn't sure why he was here again. Perhaps because being inside the mansion was like being in a pressure cooker. When he stepped outside to get some air, he found his feet carrying him to Mina's flat once more.

"I've had several names over the past couple of decades," she was saying as she came out of the kitchen. "I change it every seven to ten years, when I move to a new town. But I always kept my initials. I think it helped me remember who I was in the past."

He took the glass she offered. "Does it really?" he asked. "A name is only letters and sounds."

"True." She sat down, this time on the bed, next to him. She swirled the blood in her glass thoughtfully. "But when you get down to it, a name is the only thing a person has that's only theirs. Even if two people share a name, that name means different things to them, which makes it unique. When one lives as long as we do, we forget things, but I feel a name is something worth holding on to." She turned to him. "I was surprised to find out that you had changed yours."

"It wasn't a willing change." Alucard took a sip from his glass. "Van Helsing bestowed this name on me after he was sure that all the guards were in place to keep me from escaping my servitude to him."

"Why did he do that?"

"I think it's some sort of insult, reversing my name. Perhaps a calculated blow to my ego to make sure I knew that I am the opposite of what I once was – a king. Now, I'm just a servant."

"You don't seem too bothered by it."

"It's like you said before. We make peace and we move on."

"Do you still think about it?"

"About what?"

"Everything that led up to all that we are now?"

"More often than I'd like to. I can guard myself against the past, but I can't keep it from invading my dreams."

"Me neither."

They sat in silence. Alucard tapped the side of his glass absently. The blood didn't taste very appetizing today. He wasn't sure whether it had anything to do with his state of mind. Mina seemed to notice.

"Something's on your mind."

He shook his head. "Nothing important." A gentle prod touched the edge of his consciousness. She was trying to see if he was lying. He frowned. "Don't do that, Mina. It's impolite, and you need another century of practice before you can get through."

She blushed. The light pink looked strangely adorable against her pale complexion. "I'm sorry. I just…"

_Master?_

Alucard raised his head slightly as Seras's voice entered his head.

_What is it, policegirl? _

_Where are you, master?_

He glanced at Mina, who was watching him with interest.

_Doesn't matter. What do you want? _

_Please come to the warehouse on Thirteenth, master. There's a situation._

_Fine. _

Setting his glass down on the windowsill, Alucard stood. "I have to go."

"That fledgling of yours," Mina said as she pushed herself off the bed also, "she's a good girl."

"She is."

"And that Frenchman I saw with her…"

Alucard shrugged into his coat as she walked him to the door. "What about him?"

"He loves her very much."

"Yes. Unfortunately, he thinks complimenting her breasts twice a day is the way to impress her."

_Master, please hurry!_

Mina chuckled. "You better go," she said. "And be sure to teach the girl how to shield her telepathy. I bet half the vampires in England are picking up on her."

"She's still young."

"I know." There was a strange, wistful look in her eyes. "But perhaps soon you should find yourself a partner more… fitting of you."

Before he could ask what she meant, she stepped forward and planted a firm kiss on his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: little dizzy right now. trying to get chapters out. bear with me.

Review please!

Chapter 8

Abandoned factories, apartment buildings, and warehouses were the favorites of low-level vampires. These buildings were generally large, quiet, and had many places to hide and several exits for means of escape if needed. They offered a large amount of space where ghouls could be kept, and many rooms shadowed from the sun.

The air was saturated with the smell of blood when Alucard arrived. The doorway was littered with bodies of ghouls. The troops of Hellsing were stationed outside. From the looks of it, they were finishing off the last of the stragglers.

Pip Bernadette, sitting atop an armored vehicle, spotted him first. He whistled and waved in a most uncouth manner.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Mr. Alucard! Over here!"

His first instinct was to ignore the man, but Bernadette hopped of the vehicle and was in front of him in two strides and saluted.

"Good to see you, Mr. Alucard," he said. "The police girl's run into some trouble in there. We're pulling out right now, but she's still in there."

Alucard was only half listening. Mina's words were still ringing in his ears. He shook his head to clear it. It didn't do much good.

A partner more fitting.

If she was implying what he thought she was implying, life just got a lot more complicated. Had this been a hundred years ago, even a few years ago, he wouldn't even hesitate to welcome her with open arms. But it wasn't that simple anymore, which was really to be expected. Nothing about him was ever simple.

In many aspects, she hadn't changed. She was still so strong, independent, and beautiful in every way. She was intelligent and honest, and now his equal in almost all aspects.

But…

"Yo!" Pip was snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. "You awake there, sir?"

Annoying, Alucard brushed his hand aside. "Yes," he said. "Get out of my way."

Without waiting for the Frenchman to reply, he headed into the warehouse. Most of the troops have indeed pulled out, but his fledgling was nowhere to be seen. As he ventured deeper into the warehouse, up a flight of shaky stairs, a familiar presence made itself known.

Yes. Of course it was him.

Before the priest stepped into view, Alucard had already drawn his gun. Seras stumbled into sight, a visible wound in her side.

"M-master!" she stammered. "You're here! I…"

"Get out."

She hesitated, looking behind her apprehensively.

"Hurry."

It was obvious she didn't want to leave him alone, but his fledgling nodded. "Yes, master," she said, and headed out of the warehouse.

The air was cold and tight, and smelled of holy water and old books, as it always did when Father Alexander Anderson was around. It was as if he always brought a whole church with him. Alucard winkled his nose as he waited, his finger over the trigger.

It had being months since he'd had a good fight, and a good fight was what he needed. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to throw himself into bloodshed, opposite an opponent who will deliver him from all those bothersome thoughts and feelings. Integra wouldn't approve, but…

To hell with it.

The warehouse had cleared out now. Nothing but silence greeted him as the tall silhouette separated itself from the shadows. He smirked. Anderson did the same.

"Greetings, vampire."

"Good evening, Judas priest."

There was blood on the priest's blades. Most belonged to the ghouls. Some belonged to his fledgling. Alucard arced a brow.

"I believe you have been ordered not to injure Hellsing personnel, Father."

"I assumed that only pertained to humans."

"Not to mention you are inside Hellsing jurisdiction. The Vatican seems to be imposing its authority beyond its rightful limits again."

Anderson raised his blades. Alucard leveled the Jackal.

"On the contrary," Anderson said evenly. "I am not here on orders. I just happened to be in the neighborhood on other matters. This was just a bonus. Consider it a favor to Hellsing."

"Then allow me to repay it."

Sparks flew.

This was the way it always went. As blood, steel, and gunpowder mixed and mingled, Alucard found himself falling into the battle. This was the way it was supposed to be. The battles, the scent of conflict. Even as Anderson's blades sunk into his body he never slowed. Round after round exploded from his gun, drowning out thoughts of the miserable days he'd being spending inside Hellsing's walls.

This is the way of monsters.

Monsters do not succumb to emotions.

Suddenly, Anderson withdrew his blades.

Startled, Alucard kept his gun trailed on the priest. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "We're just getting started!"

Anderson ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses. The blessed blades disappeared back into his sleeves. "Not today," he said nonchalantly, as if carrying on a casual conversation over drinks. "I do not wish to fight an opponent who is not at his fullest."

His finger tightened on the trigger. "What are you talking about?"

Anderson began to turn away. The expression on his face was one of both boredom and arrogance, which agitated Alucard to no end. "I mean you're holding back," he said. "Or perhaps something is keeping you from fighting at your fullest. I don't know. But I don't wish to fight you unless you are a worthy opponent, which right now you are far from."

"Stop making excuses!" Alucard snapped. "Pick up your weapon and fight! I will not listen to such nonsense."

The priest shrugged and walked away, his hands in his pockets. "We will fight," he said to Alucard over his shoulder, "most likely when we meet up again, assuming you've stopped bleeding by then."

For a moment Alucard stood there as the priest disappeared into the shadows. It took him several long seconds to lower his gun, and simultaneous realize that his body was in pain, and a significant amount at that. Looking down, he saw at least a dozen penetrating wounds on his torso, each left by Anderson's silver blades. Instead of mending themselves as they ought to, they were bleeding profusely, drenching his clothing and gathering into a thick crimson river on the dirty floor.

oOo

The trip back to the manor was not a fun one. The sight of him stumbling out of the warehouse bleeding like a stuck pig had sent the soldiers on high alert. It took quite a few minutes to explain that the danger had passed. Seras was more than concerned and refused to leave his side, though he kept quiet about the events that had transpired. Finally, to alleviate her worry, he agreed to ride back with the soldiers in one of the armored vehicles.

The ride was unnerving to say the least. The driver, one of the younger members of the Wild Geese, was obviously nervous to be next to him. He said nothing throughout the entire ride and kept his eyes focused on the road, trying his best to pretend that there was no vampire riding in the passenger seat. Alucard was fine with that. He was in no mood for conversation.

The bleeding never stopped.

A few minutes into the ride, the passenger seat was soaked with his blood. Try as he could, his body could not recover as it once did. The wounds Anderson left on him stun worse by the minute. Every time the car hit a bump, Alucard found himself clenching his fangs to keep from moaning out loud.

There was holy water in his wounds. The priest had blessed his blades recently. But that had never posed a problem before. Inability to heal was not affected by the degree of the wound, but by his mental state.

He was ashamed to admit that his emotions had caused him to fall to this position.

The vehicle pulled up in front of the mansion. He was relieved to see that they had arrived ahead of the others, probably because the driver wanted to spend as little time in the car with him as possible.

"We're here," the young man said, eyeing the bloody seat nervously, "sir."

He didn't reply. Instead, he opened the door and got out without a word. The movement strained the wounds nearest to his heart, causing more fresh blood to leave his body in spurts. It hurt like hell.

All he needed to do was get to his coffin, he decided. To sleep away the rest of the night and let his wounds heal, calm his mind and gather his thoughts. He had to report in regardless, but a short acknowledgement outside Integra's office should do. He would stay in the shadows so she wouldn't see the pathetic state he was in. He hated to think what she would say were she to see him like that.

Traveling via walls and ceilings proved to be difficult, so he walked. The spots of blood on the stairs would be rather hard to explain to the maids tomorrow, but that wasn't his problem. The faster he got this over with the better.

Getting to Integra's office seemed to take an eternity. His wounds were stinging worse as he reached the door. Alucard winced as he gripped the door handle, opening it just far enough to see inside and still keep himself out of sight.

"Master?" he said tentatively, trying hard to kept his physical strain from affecting his voice as he pushed the door open a little further.

She was wearing a wedding dress.

It was like being shot between the eyes in the dark. In his surprise, he let the door slide away from him. It opened wide as their eyes met.

"Please leave," she said softly to the maid who appeared to be fixing the hem.

Alucard barely noticed the girl slipping past him. The pain in his flesh suddenly seemed far away as he stood there, unable to take his eyes off his master. It was the first dress he'd seen her wear since the first time they met in the dungeons. It consisted of a long silk skirt topped with a lace corset. A lace train trailed behind her, decorated with the same gems that dotted the delicate straps that hung off her arms, exposing her white, flawless shoulders. Every bit of lace was sprinkled with glitter and sequins. Her hair was up, covered with a white veil that draped all the way to her waist.

It was so uncharacteristic. So out of place on her body, in her office.

And yet, there she was, in that dress. She was the picture of perfection.

Seeing him, Integra looked away. She was blushing, he could tell even in the darkness. She was embarrassed to be seen in such a getup. He knew he shouldn't stare, but it was hard to do otherwise.

"It's a gift from the Queen," she said after a long moment.

He couldn't think of what to say, so he settled for stating the fact. "It's beautiful."

Integra chuckled dryly. "I never thought I'd wear such a thing," she said, pulling the dress off the ground as she took a few careful steps. "Especially for such a functional marriage. But the Queen wished for there to be a celebration for the wedding, albeit a small one. She said the bride could not show up for her own wedding in a pantsuit."

Bride.

It was such a hard thing to imagine, his master, a blushing bride.

Someone else's blushing bride.

His wounds acted up again. Alucard winced and hissed through his teeth without realizing it. Integra turned to him. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head and stepped back. "Nothing, master."

But it was too late. His blood had already dripped onto the floor. Integra approached him. Even in a wedding dress, she walked like a marching general. He saw that she was barefoot underneath the dress. That, at least, was like her. He couldn't imagine her walking on heels of any sort. Before he could protest, she gripped his coat and pulled it aside, revealing his blood-soaked undershirt.

"You're hurt," she said with astonishment. "How did this happen?"

He pulled away from her. He didn't want to stand this close to her, not when she looked like that. A few drops of his blood made its way onto her dress, but she didn't seem to take notice.

"I'll be alright, master," he insisted.

"You're bleeding."

"I'll be alright," he said again. More of his blood had dripped to the floor, staining her hem. "I will retire now. Good night, master."

"No."

That took him by surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

She turned around and headed back into her office. "Come in," she said to him.

He did. The floor was littered with pins and needles. A stool sat in the center of the room, where Integra must have stood as the maid put finishing touches on the gown. Her suit was hanging on the back of her usual chair. For any other woman, it would have seemed strange that such a fitting would take place in her office, but for Integra, it somehow didn't seem so out of place. After all, marriage was just another part of business, work, and duty.

Holding her dress off the floor with one hand, Integra went to her desk and rummage in the drawers. She glanced at Alucard.

"Take off your shirt."

He blinked. "What?"

From the drawers she removed a small box. A first aid kit. He watched as she removed a surgical needle and sutures from it. "Take off your shirt," she repeated.

He did as he was told, and she went to work. Neither of them spoke as she sewed up his wounds, working the needle with great care and grace. Her hands were very warm against his cold skin, and as her dress became increasingly stained she only became more beautiful in the moonlight. Not once did she attempt to keep the dress out of the way as she worked, nor did it seem to occur to her that she should change out of the dress before doing such a thing.

As she stood so close to him, dressed in snow white and blood red, Alucard had never found healing his wounds to be so very difficult. But that was alright. If this was the result, he would gladly rip his own chest open.

It took more than an hour for her to finish. There were so many stitches on his torso that his body looked like that of Frankenstein's monster. But the bleeding slowed significantly, and for that he was grateful. He wanted to thank her, among so many other things, but as she broke the thread for the last time, she simply stepped back.

"You can go now," she said blankly, putting the equipment back in its place. She didn't look at him, nor say anything else. The invisible wall between them was thick and unbroken.

He dressed, bowed and exited.

Walter was waiting outside. The butler studied his carefully as he emerged from the office.

"Did you speak with her?"

To some degree, he supposed he had. "Yes," he nodded. "I did."

The butler breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," he said, "I was worried that you two may wake the whole household again when she told you that the wedding has been moved up."


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: short update. Any news will be on livejournal. Thanks for being patient.

Enjoy & Review!

CH. 9

She was uncomfortable.

She shouldn't be, but she was. As she sat there, sipping tea in the drawing room on the same couch as Mina Harker, Integra found herself edgy and anxious. Her scarf felt tight, and it scratched her neck in the most unnerving way. Her suit suddenly felt like a straitjacket. Setting the tea down, she tried her best to appear unburdened, but was sure she was doing a poor job of it.

Mina, on the other hand, was completely at ease, with her long legs exposed and white arms moving gracefully as if carried by wind.

She had dropped by around dusk. Walter had shown her in and made tea for the both of them. They sat in the drawing room and talked. The conversation was pleasant, the atmosphere friendly and intimate. Even Walter seemed charmed by the woman's beauty and kind smile. They talk about the past, the present, the future, and exchanged tales of Abraham and Arthur.

But Integra was uncomfortable. She couldn't explain it, didn't understand it, and didn't want to think about it. But having Mina here put her ill at ease.

Never in her life had she felt threatened by another woman. Perhaps threatened wasn't the right word. After all, threat implied fear, and she certainly hasn't been afraid of much over the last decade. But there was no better way to describe what she was feeling as Mina sat there, her long legs crossed, cooing her tale like a nightingale.

She felt clumsy.

For the first time in her life, Integra was aware of how plain, how bland, how unfeminine she looked. Her suit was stiff and stuffy, cut like a man's. Her shoes were flat. Her hair was limp, and the closest thing she owned to makeup was a tube of lip balm, tossed unceremoniously in the back of her desk drawer.

Compared to Mina, she felt like a weed next to a rose. Sitting less than two feet apart, they seemed to be in stark contrast. Mina was a pristine, classical beauty, from her flawless skin to her wavy, caramel hair to her manicured nails. She wore short, tasteful dresses and strapped heels, and her every movement was delicate and precise.

Though she had never spent much time around other women growing up, Integra knew she was nothing like the general population. It had never being an issue before, nothing she ever thought of. There is a possibility that if she had being raised like a normal girl, she would have noticed these things earlier, and become more aware of them. Regardless, right now, at this moment, in spite of herself, she had never felt more…

Unattractive.

She hated feeling that way, hated that she was allowing herself to feel that way.

"Are you excited for your wedding, Integra?" Mina asked, setting down her tea. "I realize that it may not have being your first choice in doing things, but you ought to enjoy it for what it is regardless. From what you tell me, Mr. Denmark seems to be a fine gentleman. Considering arranged marriages as a whole, you could do worse."

She was right. Though Integra didn't want to admit it. "I take it as part of duty," she replied. "I trust Ben to do the same."

"Will you not give romance a chance? You are still a young woman, after all."

Integra shook her head. "Romance isn't important."

"What about love?"

She hesitated. "I will take that as it comes."

"Will you be wearing a suit for the ceremony?" There was a teasing smile in Mina's eyes. "It would be very fitting of you."

It was a compliment. And yet, Integra felt it was almost an insult. "The Queen had a dress sent to me."

"How lovely! May I see it?"

The dress was hanging in her closet upstairs. The bloodstains from two nights ago had set in long ago. She should have had it cleaned right away, but it simply didn't seem important. Integra sipped her tea and wondered what the cleaners would say when she finally has Walter bring it to them.

If she ever did.

Before she could answer, the butler entered. "Mr. Denmark is here, Miss Integra," he announced. "It seems you had a dinner date."

Did she? Integra had no idea. Chances are, if Ben was here, they did have a date. She had forgotten. Yet again.

Smiling, Mina stood. "Next time, perhaps," she said. "I will drop by again prior to your wedding."

Then, like an old friend, she gave Integra a warm hug and a light kiss on the cheek, the kind given to little girls by their grandmothers at Sunday brunch. Integra cringed inside.

"Perhaps the Count… I mean, Mister Alucard, could see me home."

She wanted to say "no". She didn't know why, or didn't want to admit why, but she wanted to say "no". For a long moment she stood there, debating furiously with herself.

"Alucard," she said at last. Her voice felt a little raspy.

Shadows gathered in the room. He had been nearby. Of course he was. Why wouldn't he when this beautiful woman was in the house? He had been waiting, she was sure. He probably wanted more than anything to see Mina home, to be away from the mansion, from Ben, from her.

"Please see Miss Harker home."

He bowed. Then he turned away from her as Mina stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm lightly. She smiled at him, he returned it, though it was brief.

Though she saw them leave, Integra didn't remember much of it. Several minutes passed as she stood there, in a hazy stupor, unsure of what to think, or say, or even feel. She remembered seeing Ben come in, remembered him leaning down to kiss her. But she turned away at the last second so that his kiss landed on her cheek. She remembered he looked disappointed.

She remembered Walter walking away, muttering, "I hope he isn't gone long. The troops are patrolling in an hour."

She remembered gripping Ben's arm and leading him down the stairs into the courtyard, all the while asking him, "do you really want to see what you're getting yourself into?"

oOo

There were faster ways to travel, but they walked instead. As to not attract attention to himself, Alucard had changed into street clothes, a casual suit and black tie. Together, unhurried, they strolled through the London streets in the light of the rising moon. It was strange, really, how much they resembled a normal couple.

He didn't speak much. Mina was the one who finally broke the silence.

"You're thinking of something," she stated matter-of-factly. "Whatever it was on your mind, it's still there."

He smirked. "Perceptive of you."

"Perception has nothing to do with it. I can sense it hovering above you. It's like a rain cloud."

"Feels like one, too."

"So what is it?"

"Why did you ask me to walk you home?"

Mina chuckled. "That's not it, is it?"

He shook his head. "No, but I'd still like to know."

"Honestly?" She raised her eyes to the moon. It lit up her eyes. "I missed walking in a man's company."

"There are plenty of men in England."

"A man that is, I suppose, more than me. It's a rather backward way of thinking, but I missed being around a man who can protect me, even if I do not need it."

"Is that all?"

"I think so." She turned to him. "Will you answer my question now?"

He considered it. Should he lie? Or act aloof? There was no point. Somehow, lying to Mina seemed completely pointless. "Integra's wedding is being moved up."

Judging by the surprised look on her face, she didn't know. It was somehow comforting, knowing that he wasn't the only one oblivious to it. "Has it? How nice for her." A pause. "It bothers you."

"You could say that."

She fell silent. Alucard glanced to his side and saw her looking at him. She was studying him, looking over his face and posture and everything in between. Finally, she laughed, as if just understanding a good joke.

"What's so funny?"

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked with laughter in her eyes. "The great-grand daughter of Abraham, Count. I must say I admire your ability to continuously seek out the one forbidden fruit beyond your reach."

Her reaction agitated him, but what she said was also true. So very true.

_Master?_

He brushed Seras' voice aside. "Is it that ridiculous a notion?"

Mina smiled. "Not at all," she said. "She's a beautiful woman although a bit young. She has passion and energy, which is more than the right match for you. However, have you ever stopped to consider what a union between the two of you would mean?"

He has. He didn't want to, but he has.

"You are not what she needs," Mina went on as they slowed their step at a street corner. "That is why she has decided to marry that Denmark boy. He is what she needs right now, someone who can support her sense of duty. On the flip side, she is not what you need either."

They stopped. She stood close to him. Her breath was cool and fresh against his face. "Do you remember what I said last time?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I'm not saying I'm better than her," she whispered as she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. "But I am a partner more suited of you. The same can be said of you when it comes to me. You and I are like no other. We are alone in this world. I am what you need, Count."

He wished she would stop being right. Integra had already made her choice. It was time he made a few of his own.

"The choice is yours," she said to him. "You can wait. Or you can act."

He led her lead him. Once again to her flat. There wasn't any hesitation this time. He let himself become completely wrapped up in her. He had decided. He knew he had. This time he was certain.

That was, until Seras' voice invaded his mind once more, just as Mina began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

_Master!_ She was crying with desperation. _Please come back! Miss Integra is wounded! _


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

She wasn't sure what she hoped to accomplish. But it was too late to turn back. Besides, Integra thought to herself, this could prove to be advantageous.

Sitting next to her in the armored car, Ben seemed rather nervous. More than nervous. He kept one eye out the window and one on her, as if trying to figure out what she was really up to. To be honest, she herself wasn't so sure.

England at night was peaceful, but only to the unsuspecting masses. Vampiric activity was brimming from every corner. Chaos wasn't always around the corner, but more often than not the nightly patrols uprooted a few straggling vampires and ghouls, thin and gnarly, with desperation in their eyes.

Usually it wasn't her job to accompany the troops on a routine patrol. Her presence was only required when dealing with stubborn local officials. The car they rode in was her personal auto, armored to the teeth and disguised like a luxury car. Most of the time it carried her from one supposedly important meeting to another. But tonight was different. She wanted to be out of the mansion, to be anywhere else, and moreover, she wanted to show Ben…

What?

She wasn't sure. Maybe she wanted him to see what kind of life she led, the kind of life he shouldn't want to be a part of. Seeing him sitting there, tugging at his shirtsleeves nervously, she found it amusing that he had probably never seeing more bloodshed than a pricked finger.

He wasn't saying anything, and neither was she. That was fine. Silence was alright for her. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

The radio on the dashboard warbled. The driver picked it up. Ben was looking increasingly on edge.

"You should relax," she told him as the driver spoke into the radio in a low voice.

He managed a smile, trying to hid his discomfort. "That's a bit hard to do when I don't know where we're going."

"Being nervous won't do you any good."

"You make it sound like we're headed for death roll."

"Sir Hellsing," the driver cut in before she could reply. "We have a situation down on Primary."

Primary? Had she heard the name of that street recently? She wasn't certain.

"Clarify."

"Vampire cornered in a blocked subway entrance. Local police have already responded. Five deaths confirmed."

"Civilians?"

"At least one police officer."

Integra swore under her breath. Seems fate had brought her out here tonight. No matter. She could kill two birds with one stone, handle the situation and show Ben what the business of Hellsing really was.

"Take us there."

Apprehension washed over Ben's face. "You're really heading there?" he asked. "I thought your work was mostly behind the desk."

Smirking, Integra laid a hand on the hilt of the sword clipped to her belt. "You didn't think this was just for show, did you?"

The subway entry was more than crowded when they arrived. The local police have indeed made their presence known. There was red tape and flashing sirens everywhere. Hellsing's personnel have also arrived, but from the looks of it, the police was giving them trouble. Pip Bernadette was standing next to a police car, arguing loudly with two policemen.

"What do you mean you got it covered?" he was yelling over the noise. "You don't know what you're dealing with! No _you_ listen to _me…_"

Integra got out of the car and make a quick scan of the situation. The civilians have mostly being cleared out of the area, any ones remaining inside the subway were probably ghouls already. The policemen were in the way, confused and talking amongst themselves, getting in Hellsing's way. As she searched for the police chief, Seras ran toward her, halted, and saluted.

"Miss Integra," she said, "the vampire is inside the subway. We haven't being able to get inside due to the police."

Integra frowned. "Who's in charge of them?"

"I think it's that man over there," Seras pointed to a portly man on the far side of the street. How noble, he had placed himself well out of the way of danger. "I will call master."

With that, she started to turn away. Integra stopped her. "No."

"Miss Integra?"

"Not yet. Hold your position."

Without waiting for Seras to ask further questions, Integra walked past her car toward the police chief. Ben exited quickly and followed her.

"What's going on?"

She didn't slow her step. "Just stay out of the way," she said without tossing him a glance. The portly policeman noticed her. He wrinkled his forehead in a rather dissatisfied way. Integra wasn't in the mood to humor him.

"Get your people out of here," she demanded.

The man snickered. "I'm going to have to ask you to move along, Miss. This is police business."

She glared at him, her eyes cold as steel. The man squirmed. "You are out of your jurisdiction," she said, enunciating her words clear as day. "Withdraw immediately. Your presence here will only cause more casualties."

He cleared his throat. "Look, Miss…"

She pushed him aside. The ghoul behind him let out a dry croaking sound as her sword slashed through its torso, showing them both in blood and grime. Both the police chief and Ben stood in shock as the severed body kept moving, moaning in the most unearthly way. Integra stepped forward and drove her blade through its head. It twitched, then ceased all movement.

She turned to the police chief. "Why are you still standing there?" she demanded. "Get your people out!"

He hesitated. Just as Integra was itching to cut him a new one, he finally moved, running as fast as his stubby legs would carry him and shouting orders to his people. She looked at Ben.

He was pale. His eyes trailed on the spots of blood on her coat and glasses, and the sword in her hand. His lips moved as he tried to talk, say something, but failed. She walked away from him.

" Victoria!" she shouted to the former police girl, who snapped to attention. "Get in there and clean the place out! Captain Bernadette, have your people secure the perimeters. I don't want a single one of those things getting out!"

Hellsing's troops snapped into motion, moving like a well-oiled machine. Integra paused just long enough to savor it. The power of Hellsing.

She was glad. She was glad that she didn't need him here.

For a moment, she was too busy being glad to notice the dead policeman, who still held his gun.

oOo

When he made it back to the mansion, the whole place was flushed with light and bustling voices. No one even noticed Alucard as he pushed through the concerned-looking soldiers and headed for the front door. The inside of the building was in just as much disarray. Several maids were huddled in a corner, talking quickly in a hushed whisper. A cook was peeking out of the kitchen with his brows furled. But what worried him most were the paramedics.

He stayed out of sight, traveling in the shadows. Everyone was talking, so many words that even his sensitive ears couldn't sort them out.

There were three paramedics that he could see, one of whom he recognized as Hellsing's personal physician, who often tended to wounded soldiers and even Integra on the few times she'd fallen ill. To have medical personnel around was not unusual after a mission, as there was usually a few cuts and scrapes to tend to, but what bothered him was that they were dressed in scrubs, and as they headed the mansion's stairs, there was something hard and unsettling in their eyes.

He followed, trailing behind until they reached the third floor. Here, all was quiet, the noises of downstairs were shut out, though the flashing lights from the armored vehicles were still finding their way in through the windows. The physician and his assistants disappeared into one of the rooms and closed the door. Just outside it stood a curvy, familiar finger, her hands intertwined and red tears in her eyes.

"Master, is that you?"

He stepped out of the shadows. Hiding from his fledgling was pointless. Beside her stood Pip Bernadette, who had his arm around her shoulders and for once his fingers weren't creeping toward her breasts. Alucard watched as a red tear rolled down Seras's cheek. Pip pulled her close.

"Hey now," he said, mustering up as much empathy in his voice as he could. "She'll be fine. It's gonna take more than a bullet to kill that broad."

A bullet.

Without sparing a word to his fledgling, Alucard turned and walked through the door of the enclosed room. The sight that greeted him would have made his blood turn cold were he still a warm body.

The physician looked up briefly, acknowledged him with a nod, and went back to his work.

Laying on the sterile sheet, with a gas mask covering her nose and mouth, was Integra. The physician and his assistants worked diligently. Tools exchanged hands. Scalpels, cotton balls, tweezers…

In the pale light, her blond hair appeared almost white, and he could see the lines on her face, the result of the daily stress of her job, her life, her existence. The world had left harsh marks on her beautiful face and young body, and now it was robbing her of her life. The physician gestured to his assistants, his hands covered in blood. Her blood. He took the tweezers and fished out a small object from the open cavity in her abdomen and dropped it into a small tray.

A bullet. There was another one already in there. Two bullets. She'd been shot twice.

The heart monitor in the corner beeped steadily, almost like a musical rhythm. The physician looked up at him again.

"Mr. Alucard," he said evenly. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. I know you are concerned, but we should be finished within the next hour. Please come back then."

He wanted to say something, anything. Not to the doctor but to Integra, just to see if she could still hear him. But she couldn't, of course she couldn't, and what could he possibly say to her? No words could express the guilt he felt at the moment.

And so he left the room quietly. Through the walls he emerged on the roof, and there he sat under the moon as the heart monitor continued to beep. He could still hear it, even over the noise in the courtyard.

_Beep, beep, beep… _

He hadn't been there to protect her. He had given her nothing but headaches and grief for the past several weeks, and now it's all come to this. He tried to remember the last words he said to her, and realized it didn't matter. They weren't what he wanted to say, weren't what he should have said.

_What a sad excuse for a monster I've become_, he thought to himself with a dry chuckle.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Integra was dreaming.

Or perhaps she was thinking. She wasn't quite sure as she wasn't completely asleep. She could hear the heart monitor beeping, could feel the doctor probing inside her body. It didn't hurt. She was merely aware of the sensations. There was light in her room. She could tell it was bright without opening her eyes.

It stayed like that for a little while, as she laid there, half conscious and half sleep, listening to the heart monitor beep. It was almost soothing. She would have drifted off into a deeper unconsciousness if a new sensation hadn't invaded her mind. It was a familiar coolness, like an icy breeze.

Her mind wavered, seizing the sensation eagerly. Did she know it? Was it something she knew? Was it someone?

Then it was closer, and she was sure.

Yes, he was here.

He came after all.

She waited for him to get closer, to talk to her so she could hear his voice. Maybe he'd reach into her mind, just to see if she was thinking about him, just to see if she was thinking at all. She waited and waited, but he did none of those things. He just stayed there, at a distance. She could almost hear his mind's voice, but it was too faint. Was he watching? Waiting for a signal. She wanted to move so he could know she was aware of him, but her body was numb. She couldn't even feel her fingers.

And then he left, and once again there was silence. The doctors kept on working as his presence faded out of her reach. A wave of sleepiness hit her and she almost drifted off, but disappointment kept her awake.

Why didn't he try to reach her? Why didn't he come closer? Why wasn't he there when she needed him? She couldn't admit that last one. She could never admit that she needed him, not to his face. But that'd never stopped him before. He always knew. So why?

_Because I'm not the most important thing to you anymore._

She wanted to smile at the thought, a sad smile, but couldn't, so she let out a soft sigh, so soft that it was nothing more than a tiny puff of air. Mina's face drifted into her mind. Beautiful, sweet, kind Mina, whom he'd spent a century waiting for. She thought about the small smile on Alucard's face when she was around.

_I suppose you haven't been very high in my priorities,_ she thought as darkness took over. _I'm sorry._

oOo

Eventually the noises below died down as the soldiers drove the vehicles to the back of the mansion and returned to their quarters for the night. Alucard remained on the roof, bathing in the moonlight. His fledgling's presence had faded a little. Perhaps she'd retreated to the depth of the dungeons. That French captain was with her, and for once, he sensed no lust from him, only sympathy, and a little bit of fear that the man would probably never admit to while sober. Lights went out in most of the windows. The only sound left was the heart monitor, still beeping below him.

He regretted not trying to reach her, but knew it was the right thing to do. It was dangerous to attempt a connecting with her in that state. He could damage her mind, or wake her in the middle of the operation. He couldn't do that. Couldn't risk it. Couldn't bear to put her in more pain after what's already happened. Today, he had failed her for the first time.

He didn't want to wallow in memories, but memories found him. Her face drifted to mind, but not as she is now. More than a decade ago, when they first laid eyes on each other, she'd been different. She was much younger, small, and still green with a gun. And yet, the moment it was in her hands, she knew where to point it without hesitation. Not once did she freeze up, not once did she pause to rethink her actions. Once she made a decision, she saw it through. And since then, that's how it'd always been. She always got her way, always kept her people safe, always defended Hellsing's honor. On the rare occasions when she couldn't do those things, she kept her cool, never wavered, though he knew it bothered her, tore at her when she failed. Sometimes the corner of her lips would twitch, just a little. No one noticed but him. Even old Walter never quite caught on.

Over the next ten years, he watched her shed blood, sweat, and tears for Hellsing. The last one was very rare, but it happened. Only once or twice every few years behind closed doors, but even then her stony expression never changed. Once, after a particularly bad night that resulted in the death of nearly two dozen troops including one very capable captain, Alucard saw those coveted tears for the first time, as she sat in her office at two o'clock in the morning, looking out the window. There were faint shiny streaks down both her cheeks, but otherwise she looked exactly the same. When he made his presence known, she did not try to hide it, nor speak of it. Instead, she removed her glasses, wiped her eyes casually, and gave him the usual orders.

Nothing interfered with duty. That was how Integra was, how she is, and how she always will be. He liked to think it was her choice. That made it easier. But he of all people knew it wasn't. She was so young. Only twenty-three years old. Young women at her age should be living it up to the fullest, doing silly things they could later tell their children not to do. But Integra had been robbed of that. Her youth, her life, her happiness, all of it, sacrificed to duty.

And he hasn't exactly made it any easier.

Alucard ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as he laid back on the roof. Just a few weeks ago he'd been angry. So angry at her, and she at him. Right now it didn't seem important. In fact, it seemed plain stupid. Because of these little matters, which now seeming so petty, he had almost lost her.

_How could I have been so foolish?_

It had taken much too long for him to realize this, that none of this was her fault. She hadn't chosen Ben. She had been doing the same thing she'd been doing for more than ten years now: protecting England and her father's legacy. Instead of supporting her, he'd been in her way.

He wasn't sure how many hours had passed. Could be one or ten. Either way, he found himself drifting through the mansion again. Most of the staff had cleared away, tucked into an uneasy sleep for the night. Walter was in his room. Judging by the way he had fallen asleep at this desk, the butler had originally intended to remain awake all night in case his master needed him, but exhaustion took over.

The operation was over. They had left her alone to let her rest. That was a good sign. He hovered outside the room, hesitating, thinking. What was there to say besides "I'm sorry"?

There was a soft tug inside his mind. A gentle beckon. Did she know he was out there? He stepped through the door.

She was so pale.

All the color had drained from her face. Her body was covered by a warm blanket, but he could still see the bandages peeking out. The heart monitor was still connected, but he could no longer hear it. All he could hear was the beating of her heart. Weak, but steady. She was going to live.

She may not live next time.

He couldn't fault himself enough for forgetting that fact. She was not immortal, no matter how hard she pretended to be.

Slowly, she turned to him, and though her lips did not curl, he saw the smile in her eyes. Then her mouth moved, forming two gentle words that pierced his heart like no blade or bullet could.

"I'm sorry."

oOo

He knelt by her bed, his head bowed. She wanted to lift his eyes to her with her hand, but found it hard to move. She didn't want him to feel guilty for her recklessness. All she wanted was for him to look her in the eyes.

"Forgive me, master."

Her lips moved, barely whispering, but she knew he could hear her perfectly. "Don't."

"I should never have left your side."

She didn't want him to be sad either. She had lived. Even without his protection, she had lived. Integra laid there, watching her humble servant beside her. For the first time since their meeting, she felt as if she was seeing him clearly. She wanted to let him know that, let him know that she understood his loneliness and pain, and the decision she had made. For his happiness.

_I'm sorry_, she thought. _I know you can hear me. I'm the one who's sorry._

_Why, master?_

_Because I've taken you for granted._ She smiled weakly. It was the only thing she could do that did not bring about a stab of pain. _I do not own you. Though our relationship is master and servant, I do not own you. I have forgotten that._

_Master, I…_

_Bring her here_. She wanted to get it out, to let him know before she changed her mind. She didn't want to change her mind, but she knew if she stopped, it may happen. _ I know she makes you happy. Bring her here. Extend my invitation to her. Tell her she is welcome as part of the Hellsing family._

There was surprise on his face. She had expected that. But there was also confusion, which she hasn't anticipated. She thought he'd be ecstatic, thought he'd thank her and rush of to bring Mina the good news. But instead, he stayed there, kneeling by her side, with a look on indecision in his eyes.

He was probably still feeling guilty. That was alright. She imagined her here in the house, a wise woman who could help the organization in so many ways with her experience, power, and intellect. It wouldn't be so bad. She would bring Alucard some relief in his servitude. He would be happier.

Sacrifice.

Integra sighed lightly. A small sacrifice on her part, this decision.

oOo

Alucard stood slowly. The last thing he wanted was to leave his master's side, but her words had shocked him. At first he thought she wasn't serious, that perhaps she was being sarcastic to make some sort of point, but then she said nothing else; simply gazed at him with those blue eyes.

_Go on_, she told him. _She's waiting_.

He hesitated. Suddenly she wasn't looking at him anymore, but instead was gazing past him. He turned and saw a man standing at the door.

"Go on," she said softly. "There's someone else here I need to apologize to."

And so he left, walking past Benjamin Demark without a word. The man regarded him with curiosity, but did not attempt to offer a greeting. The door closed behind him. It was almost symbolic, the end of an era, a chapter. Things were going to change. For a long moment he stood outside the door, wondering what they could be talking about inside. It wouldn't be polite to spy. For once, he opted to do the respectful thing.

She had asked him to bring Mina here, to offer her a permanent residence within the Hellsing walls. Did she really care for Mina beyond a distant respect? He wasn't certain. It was hard to tell with his master. She always kept her emotions sealed, locked up where they couldn't interfere with duty.

_I know she makes you happy._

That was what she said. That was the reason. She wanted Mina here for him, so he would have a companion of his own kind, who was an equal to him. This, too, was in the line of duty. But this time it was also for him. Integra was like an animal, a lioness, territorial and stubborn. To let such a woman onto her "turf" was more than difficult. And yet, she's swallowed her pride and allowed it.

Sacrifices.

He understood it well.

And had made his decision as well.

oOo

For once she was not waiting for him at the door, whether it was due to not caring or that she did not expect his presence, he didn't know. When he walked through the door, a different sight than what he anticipated greeted him.

Everything in her flat was stripped clean. The bed was devoid of sheets, pillows, and blankets, the computer boxed up and packed away, the only closet empty. On the floor next to the computer boxes were two matching suitcases, looking like they had seen more than their share of travels.

Mina looked up from the kitchen sink, where she was washing and packing away a pair of wine glasses.

"How is she?"

He suddenly felt embarrassed. It wasn't until now that he remembered how he had bolted out of the place, leaving her behind. "She'll be fine. She's a tough woman."

"I should expect so," she said with a teasing smile. "Hellsings have a tendency to live through whatever it is life throws at them."

He gestured at the empty apartment. "Are you leaving?"

She turned off the water and wrapped the glasses in bubble wrap. "Figured it was about time."

"Did they start asking questions at the hospital about the missing blood samples?"

"Sharp as always, Count."

He watched her pack and clean. There wasn't much, as she lived modestly. When she finished packing up the last of the dishes and glasses, she went to the fridge. There were two test tubes of blood inside, the last two. She took them out and handed one to him.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."

She drank. He did not. "Something on your mind?"

"She has asked that I bring you back to the mansion to set up residence. She feels it would be a great aid to the organization."

Mina chuckled. "No, thanks."

He arched a brow in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

She tossed her honey brown hair over her shoulder. There was a blonder tint to it now, he noticed, and her features were different. Her nose was sharper, and her pale skin was now covered in light freckles. Her brow was closer knit, and her eyes were a soft gray. She had changed her appearance in preparation for her departure. "I don't have to read your mind to know it's not what you want, though I must say I wonder why. It is not what I want either. It takes a woman to know a woman, and a good, strong woman like Integra does not need nor want me in her house. I've come to realize that."

"I thought you wanted to be the 'partner more worthy'."

"I did. Until you ran out of here at the first sign of peril on her end. That was when I realized you already had a partner. It would be improper of me to intrude any further. In fact, I regret having intruded in the first place. I've lived too long to play the game of a lover's triangle."

He laughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling very transparent. "You are saying that Integra…"

"Is the partner worthy of you. Though I must wonder, Count, why do you feel for her so strongly? It is true that you make a formidable team, but any more than that you surely must know cannot exist. She is not what you need in that aspect."

"It's true," he said. "But sometimes what one needs is not what one wants."

"Will she wed that Denmark fellow?"

"Most likely."

"And you are willing to watch and serve from the sidelines?"

He nodded firmly. "I am."

She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Good luck, Alucard," she said. "And goodbye. Perhaps we will meet again in another century, when you will tell me that she at last accepted the love you long to give."


	12. Chapter 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: final chapter. I hope everyone has enjoyed this story. Come to livejournal for updates on new stories.

Enjoy & Review!

CH. 12

He didn't return to the mansion right away. Nor did he stay at Mina's. He didn't anticipate on ever seeing her again. She seemed like a free spirit, used to flying about at her whim. He predicted that, in another hundred years, she would find the mate she seeks, perhaps in Ireland or Africa, where small numbers of powerful vampires resided in secrecy. Good. He hoped she would find happiness, which was more than he could say for himself. 

Self-pity didn't become him, he'd realized that long ago. So, instead of allowing it to overtake him, he turned his attention to enjoying the night. There was no moon tonight. Only stars, hundreds upon hundreds, much clearer at the edge of town than the city center. He walked underneath them. 

The sooner he returned to the mansion, the sooner he would have to accept reality. Despite what Mina said, he was no longer Integra's partner. Benjamin Denmark will fill that position now. The two of them would lead together, and probably do a damn good job of it. Someday they would have children, who would mostly like inherit Integra's beautiful eyes and strong will. Then, Alucard would serve them. 

Circle of life. 

He had to accept it. He also had to accept the fact that he would most likely be returning to the dungeons very soon, so he wouldn't be a disturbance on his master's attempt at a normal life with her new husband and future children. A life he wouldn't be a part of. 

Might as well enjoy the fresh air while he could. He went to the docks and stood by the sea. It was by ship that he came to England. He wondered whether Mina would leave by ship tomorrow. She didn't say where she was going; perhaps somewhere warm and tropical after months in this rainy country. 

He would say he wished he was the one leaving, but he knew that wasn't true. He had made a promise to stay and serve, even if his shackles were powerless to hold him. He would stay, and he would remain by Integra's side. He would never abandon her again. 

It was with that thought in mind that he retuned to the mansion at last. Morning had rolled around; his return was as much an act of finality as it was to get out of the sunlight. At first he planned to head to the dungeons to sleep the day away before facing Integra at night, but something stopped him. 

Denmark's car was not at the front. He had left. If he was to return in the evening, then it was best he spoke to her now. 

He headed up the stairs, to the room where she had been kept before. But she had been moved. He found her in her bedroom, laying in bed, her upper body propped up by large pillows. It pleased him to see that she was not as pale as the previous night. She was also wearing her glasses. 

When he stepped inside, she turned to look at him, but didn't say anything. He bowed at the door. This was probably the most physically close to her he would be allowed from now on. 

"Come in," she said. He did. "Close the door." 

He did that, too. The room was serenely quiet. "Are you well, master?" 

"As well as can be expected." 

"Will your"—he forced himself not to grit his teeth at the word—"betrothed be returning tonight?" 

She gazed at him, then surprised him by chuckling. "Mister Denmark will not be returning," she said. "Unless he chooses to conduct business dealings in the future, I doubt he'll be back again." 

Something in him leapt. He kept it in check. "Won't the queen be displeased? After all the trouble?" 

"I can only pray she will be forgiving." She gestured at the edge of the bed. "Sit." 

He did, sitting carefully next to her covered legs. Her bed was very soft, and the sheets were a cream color that complimented her skin and hair quite nicely. "What made you decide against the marriage, master?" 

She shrugged. "Many things." 

"I had thought a man like him was what the organization needed." 

"Is that so? I never would've guessed from the way you showed your 'approval'." 

He brushed the embarrassment aside. "Regardless," he said. "I thought that was the conclusion you had drawn, the reason you agreed to the wedding in the first place." 

"That's right," she replied slowly. "That is absolutely right. However, I have come to realize that what one needs isn't always what one wants. This may have been a selfish decision on my part, sending him away. Who knows, maybe one day I'll find myself regretting it." 

"Then why…" 

"Because I felt I was more likely to regret it had I gone through with it." As if suddenly realizing something was missing, she looked past him, searching. "Where is Miss Harker?" 

"She won't be coming. We promised to visit again in another century, circumstances allowing." 

She didn't ask what happened, or his reasoning. He could tell by the smile in her tired eyes that she already knew. Silence fell over them again, gentle and light like fresh snow. It seemed that, somehow, they had gone full circle, back where they started. A million words hung in the air, but neither of them reached for one. 

"So," Alucard said at last, "will you return the dress to the Queen?" 

She shook her head. "I don't think I will. She had said it was a gift, and I don't expect that she would ask for it back. After all, she anticipates that I should marry eventually. It will merely be saved for… next time." 

"You will have Walter clean it, then?" 

She shook her head again. "I don't think I will." 

Her hand was only a few inches away from his. He considered reaching forward and taking it, but before he could, she beat him to it. Her fingers rested on top of his, but her eyes looked away, as if embarrassed to be doing so. 

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, tasting her skin. She reached up and touched his face. Soundless words passed between them in those simple touches. 

And in that moment, he dared to picture, seeing her walk down the isle in that blood-stained dress, and to be the one waiting for her at the end. 

END


End file.
